Happy Idiots
by FredNeverDied
Summary: In a rush of originality, I had the idea that Jack might have lived! No seriously, this is a new take on it, and we follow Jack and Rose back to Chippewa Falls where they meet Jack's family, particularly his litle sister who doesn't think anyone is good enough for her big brother. This is the REAL way the movie should have ended! Rated T for swearing. Please R/R
1. Happy Idiots

_Discalimer: No, this all belongs to James Cameron, not me. I wrote this because I saw Titanic again, (why I keep watching it, I _don't_ know because believe it or not, Jack dies at the end, EVERY TIME! So this is how I seek closure after watching JC's traumatic movie-the nerd way: writing.) So...Enjoy!_

Happy Idiots

"Miss…_miss_!" cried the man, shining his light into the confused face of the redheaded woman. But she continued to blow on the rescue whistle until they had grabbed her and pulled her up out of the icy water.

"No!" she cried, as someone began uncurling her fingers from the whistle. (No one wanted to drag the whistle's owner into the boat and upset this woman, and the four other survivors from the water, any further.)

"No, _NO_!" she cried, "I need help! _We_ need help…you're not done yet, go back for him!"

"_Miss_!" cried the man, putting his large hands on both her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye.

"It's Rose!" she yelled right back at him, "...and you didn't finish your job!" she accused. The woman began to hurl herself back towards the water but the man's hands held her firmly in place.

"Rose," he said quietly, "please understand how very sorry I am about this; but whoever it is, he is most likely dead…"

"He isn't! He can't die…!"

"…Everyone is suffering from losses right now but the truth of the matter is that a lot of souls have gone now and no amount of help will bring them back," said the man, still speaking loudly. "You must think of how he is in a better place now and how this is the time to be strong…"

"No, you don't understand," said the woman, her voice suddenly calm and sure, "Jack's right there," she pointed, "and he's still alive…But he won't be much longer if you keep talking to me like an irrational five-year old!"

The crew worker looked up at his partner. They would not leave a man behind if he was still alive, but if they went over to the body and found just that—a body, no soul left—it would only upset their five passengers further. He sighed. It was a chance they'd have to take.

"Bring her 'round to port, Mr. Benson," the man said, now aiming his light at the floating mass the woman had indicated.

"Right Charlie," Benson muttered. The woman was right. There was a man floating upright in the water, holding limply on to a headboard of sorts.

His eyes were closed.

Charlie closed his own in weariness and then turned to look at Benson. Benson shook his head grimly.

_We should turn around now_, said the headshake. _There's no hope for that one_.

"See," said the redhead, Rose, "look, _look_!"

"Look here, miss..." Benson started, exasperated.

"I am looking, but…" began Charlie gently.

"Wait," said one of the other passengers, who hadn't said a thing since the slight cry she'd signaled them with from the lethal water, "there's a little fog around his mouth…no turn your light that way again..._see_?" Charlie did as he was told and slowly swiveld the searchlight, not hoping for much. But when the light was at a certain angle he saw the puff of vapor around the man's nose—he was breathing!

"_See_!" cried Rose, her eyes shining, "I told you, _I told you!_ Get him out now…_now!_"

Still not daring to believe this, Charlie helped Benson get close enough until Dick, their man in the back, could reach in and grab the unconscious man under the arms. Carefully helping Dick pull him in, while Charlie did his best to restrain Rose—it would _beyond_ ironically terrible if they capsized now—Benson helped to lay the unconscious man out in the bottom of the lifeboat, the four other people scrambling quickly out of the way.

Dick looked up at Charlie and Benson from the stern of the little lifeboat. The man had been in the water for some time and other than the slight puff of breath that continued to irregularly come from his nose, there were no other responsive signs. How had this woman known he was alive? Only by seeing his breath in the icy air through the searchlight had Charlie been able to see any signs of life. Glancing up at Rose, Charlie wondered briefly if she had had no idea whether or not the man was alive but had begged them to help him anyway. Either way, if the man woke up, it would be a miracle. He seemed to be completely shut down; seconds more in the water and he would surely have been gone.

Charlie reached for a blanket in the bottom of the boat and threw it over the man while Dick reached beneath the blanket to wring the his shirt out. Rose, staying low, moved over to crouch by his side and grabbed his hands. They made one final pass through the horrifyingly silent slick of bodies before returning to the other lifeboats.

The passengers stayed quiet except for Rose, who had curled up for warmth next to the man beneath the blanket. She was constantly whispering to him as she alternating between rubbing his hands and face. It didn't bother Charlie: he was glad that the woman seemed happy even if he was almost sure it would be short-lived. If the man died, which was probably going to happen, at least she could have these few more minutes, hours, possibly a day of hope. Just happy idiots, right?

"I told you, Jack," he heard her whisper "we can _both_ die when we're old now." Charlie closed his eyes in weariness, his heart nearly breaking for this poor, determined girl. Happy idiots…

* * *

**A/N: Please tell me what you think, I'm still really new to fanfction and I want to know how I'm doing. ;) Should I continue this? I want Jack to take Rose back home to his family which has had its own problems since Jack left. I know his family died in the movie but I really like one of the characters I made up for him.**


	2. Not An Option

Happy Idiots

Everything hurt right now. Every part of his body felt like he was being constantly stabbed by the cold; and now, after treading water to keep his blood moving, he was sore too. Not to mention having run his ass all over the boat for hours before going down on its stern.

_Just for a second_, Jack thought, _I'll only close my eyes for _five_ seconds, I'll even count it out_…

_NO! You can't. Don't think like that. Keep moving. Keep working. Just go and it'll all work out right_.

Jack had been having this argument with himself for a while now. Round and round it went, each time the verdict being to keep kicking, keep moving his arms, and then rest for a precious fifteen seconds on the side of the headboard. He was exhausted, but the moment he closed his eyes was the moment he was gone, and that was _not_ an option. He was trying to keep his mind occupied with thoughts, other than how cold and silent the water was becoming. Try as he might, however, the only thought was about rest now; _anything_ to just close his eyes for a moment.

_No! Don't even blink, you can't afford to!_

_That's not all I can't afford_. The sarcastic remark brought a dry smile to his face.

_Keep moving or you'll freeze up! Keep working and it'll all be fine_. Keep working and it will all be fine. That had been the motto of his life for too long now. Ever since leaving his family in Chippewa Falls. Jack grunted as another dark thought hit him. Not only did Rose need him, but his family too. Emily would kill him if he died out here without coming back to see her again. Dying was not an option, _not an option_…but of course, they couldn't begrudge him a few seconds respite, could they?

_No indeed..._ he thought as he blacked out.


	3. Resurfacing from Limbo

Happy Idiots

Something was breaking into Jack's world of consciousness, a tiny flashing light flitting above his head.

_Go away_, Jack thought, _leave me alone, that hurts_. The light was becoming brighter and brighter, more painful. He tried to shut his eyes against it but the light was in his own head. A familiar voice began saying garbled words right beside his ear.

_Let me sleep_, he told it.

"Lemmeslumphhff," said the familiar voice.

_Buzz off_, he muttered.

"Bumozzzffvv," the voice said louder now.

"Jack…" someone else was talking to him now: a woman-did he know her?

"Jack, wake up, _please_…" came the woman's voice. She sounded sad, scared even. He knew she was familiar somehow but he did _not_ want to open his eyes.

"_Please_…" she whispered, desperate now.

_Oh fine_, he thought, trying to find his consciousness again, _I'm waking up_…

Pain shot through his body like lightening. Jack winced and tried to go back deeper into the comforting darkness, but he was waking up now. It was like resurfacing from under quiet, peaceful water into the loud, hectic atmosphere. He was aware now of his body, not just his mind floating around. Jack went through a quick assessment: he was lying on his back on something like a cot, his eyes were closed, he was rocking gently back and forth, his foot was wrapped up tight, someone was holding on to his hand, calling his name…

His eyes opened. The pain wasn't so bad now, just an ache that was heavy in all his muscles…The light hurt too but he kept his eyes open until they adjusted. An dark orange blur on his right was sharpening into…

"Rose?" he croaked.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I realize that these are short but I'll try to update often. I'll usually just cut them off at a good stop point and then dish out the next one fast. Thanks so much for reading. Please R/R! (food for thought: does r/r stand for _read_ and review or _rave_ and reveiew...?)**


	4. RMS Carpathia

Happy Idiots

Rose had dozed off and on that night; every time she awoke a jolt a panic shot through her in response to the unfamiliar surroundings until she remembered the events of the night. She would roll over every time and check that Jack was alright: he always was. Charlie, the man who had helped to rescue him, assured her that his conditions seemed to be stable and promised he would wake her up if anything changed.

As Rose woke up again for what seemed the twentieth time that night she realized that some things had changed. 1) The first weak rays of dawn were coming up over the horizon, 2) the survivors of the wreck seemed excited by something, there was talking and movement all around her, and 3) Jack was gone.

She sat bolt upright and rounded on the man, Charlie.

"Where—!" she began angrily.

Charlie held up a pacifying hand. He had gotten a little more used to Rose over the night's course as every time she woke up and demanded to know if Jack was alright.

"He's already been transported on board," said Charlie.

"On board…?" Rose asked, turning to look behind her. A large ship loomed into view and she gasped. She noticed the words _R.M.S. Carpathia_ spelled neatly on the hull.

"_Carpathia_," Rose whispered before turning back to Charlie.

"They asked for those who were the in need of help the most," said Charlie quickly before she could open her mouth, "we rowed over to the side and they lowered a cot down for him. Your husband's in good hands."

_It doesn't matter how good the hands are_, he thought secretly, _he isn't going to make it_…

"He's not my husband," Rose muttered distractedly, looking up at the ship.

Charlie's eyebrows quirked up but he didn't say anything.

_They're betrothed then, surely_… But it didn't matter of course, he had more important things to do. For the next hour or so, the crew worked to get the survivors off the lifeboats and back onto a, hopefully sturdier, ship. Just like in the exercises going up to the sinking of the Titanic, it was women and children off the little lifeboats first, but everyone was tired and the crew was decidedly more lax about who went where so long as it was efficient. Charlie leapt over to help with Lifeboat 10 with Al Benson leaving Dick to get the few passengers off of 14.

The crew was the last to get out of the water. Charlie went back to 14 to grab a blanket for his shoulders. Rose was long gone, along with the other passengers. Charlie looked up at the _Carpathia_. She was up there somewhere with that man: the one who couldn't _possibly_ live. He had no idea how the man had survived through the night but maybe that was a sign. Charlie hoped it was for her sake.

* * *

**A/N Special thanks to Lady Elena Dawson for being the _only_ one of 70+ readers for reviewing *head shake at non-reviewers* and doing so in such a supportive way! L.E.D, you are a super! nice! person! Everyone else, _please_ review, it makes my day and I can go and tell every person I meet that I got a review on fanfic (whether or not I know them)  
****OK, that's enough of me! **

**~FND**


	5. Odds and Ends

Happy Idiots

_His eyes opened. The pain wasn't so bad now, just an ache that was heavy in all his muscles…The light hurt but he kept his eyes open until they adjusted. An dark orange blur on his right was sharpening into…_

_"Rose?" he croaked._

She was hunched over his bedside holding his left hand and staring blankly off into space; a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders but it was falling off and she didn't seem to notice. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red and puffy from either fatigue or crying (of the two Jack hoped it was the former), and her face was careworn and tired. But at the sound of his voice she looked up, her eyes shining with a forbidden hope.

"Jack?" she whispered. He grinned at her.

"Hey."

Arms were flung around him, fingers dug into the back of his neck. He reached up and wrapped his own arms around her, clutching her close to his chest, relief flooding his mind. Rose was sobbing into his shoulder, certainly the saddest sound in the world. He pressed a kiss into her temple and it made her seem a little better. He kissed her again and again and pulled her even tighter to his chest, rocking slightly.

"It's okay," Jack whispered, stroking her hair.

"I thought…" she choked, "I thought maybe…" she shook her head, unable to say it out loud and buried her face in his neck, still sobbing.

"I'm fine," he promised, kissing her forehead again and just holding her for a moment, "are _you_ okay?" She pulled back a little so she could see him and nodded, her fingers tracing his jaw line and sending shivers down his spine.

"And you're sure _you're_ alright?" she said, watching his face. Her eyes had so many emotions in them: joy, relief, fatigue, anxiety…_fear_, maybe?

"I'm fine," he said again, without even thinking about it and watched the angst melt away from her face.

_I'm fine_. Was he really? He knew his left foot was bandaged tight and suddenly realized that there was no feeling in the "end half" of it. Remembering the effects of frostbite and the solution of amputation, Jack felt a pang of worry.

"What?" Rose asked, her brow clouding again. Jack didn't want to ruin the moment but decided that if he was missing half a foot, he was entitled to know about it.

"My foot?" he asked, trying to keep the nevousness out of his voice. She bit her lip, looking guilty.

_Oh Lord, I've lost the leg!_ he thought, panicked suddenly, _I'm going to have to hobble around for the rest of my life and…_

"Your foot will be fine," said a new voice to his right.


	6. Good Hands

Happy Idiots

"Your foot will be just fine," repeated the voice. Jack turned around, suddenly conscious that he and Rose were probably making a scene. Any other time he wouldn't have cared but with so many people grieving the loved ones who had died in the accident, public displays of affection, no matter how deep, might not be appropriate. Rose must have come to the same conclusion because she sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears; her posture straight, her hands folded demurely in her lap. Maybe that was a little _too_ formal. He grinned. They'd work on that. With any luck, he'd have her slouching like a pro in no time.

Jack pushed himeself into a sitting position and noticed other patients infirmed around him in the same kind of cots.

_A ship picked us up,_ he thought, _and we're being taken care of. Check_. He craned his neck then, looking for the speaker.

"Doctor…?" Jack trailed off, finally catching sight of the man. The man approaching his bedside was balding, with a little brown hair around the tops of his ears and a small tuft on top of his head. The smile, rimless glasses for his tiny eyes were perched at an odd angle on his squashed-looking nose. A large mustache dominated the bottom half of his face. He seemed to be wearing multiple layers of clothing despite the fact that his mostly bald head was shiny with sweat. The extra clothes were making him seem large and bloated with his skinny neck sticking awkwardly out the top. A green satin ascot and a stethoscope adorned his neck. As Jack stared at him he noticed a twitch in the left side of his face, giving him an weird sort of leer every time it quirked. Jack considered himself a pretty worldly guy and he had seen some pretty strange-looking people, but this man was certainly at the top of his list of weirdoes.

"Hey…" Jack said uncertainly, trying not to stare too pointedly.

"Hello, dear boy!" The doctor said happily, bouncing over to shake Jack's hand. "It is so good to see that you've woken up! ...Not very many of my patients have, mind you, but we mustn't give up hope, we must not!" He let out a little giggle.

"Excuse me for seeming a bit off," he said, "but I haven't slept at all in the past three days and I believe I'm getting quite beyond the reach of coffee," he giggled again, "my many new patients have kept me quite busy, not that I mind of course. If there is a doctor, there is hope, and I will not rest! Though I am afraid that many of my patients will die…" he trailed off now looking quite forlorn.

Jack, who was growing steadily more and more alarmed, glanced at Rose and realized that she didn't seem shocked at all by this behavior. Quite the contrary, Rose seemed to be enjoying the eccentric little man. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced at him and grinned. Jack was about to mouth a question to her, something along the lines of, "_Are you sure he's a certified doctor_?" or more importantly, "_Are you sure he's certifiably sane?_' When the doctor broke out of his reverie and began to flutter around the bedside again.

"Well, now we must take your blood pressure…where did I leave my bag…?"

"Dr. Fraunefelder?" Rose asked him, a barely contained giggle in her voice, "I believe you left it over by Alice. There in the corner."

Dr. Frauenfelder looked over to the cot that Rose was pointing to and started.

"Yes, I believe you're right, my dear Olivia," he said, "I'll be right back." To Jack's growing incredulousness, Dr. Frauenfelder raced over to the girl's bed for his medical bag, his arms flapping like a bird as he went.

Jack stared after him a moment more before turning to a grinning Rose. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask right then, how long had he been unconscious?, what ship were they on?, who was this mad man that was supposedly taking care of him?...

But, "Olivia?" was what he finally managed.

"Oh yes," she said, quickly "we're the Roberts; I'm Olivia, you're John."

"Why…?"

"Because I don't think it should be known we're on board." At Jack's continued look of confusion Rose elaborated.

"Cal's on board."

"_WHAT!_" Several patients turned around to look at him and Jack shrank back into the cushions.

"_What?_" he repeated, quieter.

Rose nodded grimly.

"Apparently he managed to get on a lifeboat."

"_Bastard_," Jack muttered, before looking up at her guiltily, "oh yeah…sorry."

She grinned and opened her mouth to say something, probably to insult her fiancé further when Dr. Frauenfleder flapped his way over to Jack's other side with his medicine bag.

"You're in good hands, my boy," he said, heaving the bag up on the side of the cot and digging through it, "if only I can find the right tool…" Then suddenly as if fearing he'd said the wrong thing, Dr. Frauenfelder put a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder as though offering condolences,

"I _will_ find it," he said, as if Jack's life depended on his blood pressure being taken (which he sure hoped it didn't), "just you wait and see. You're in good hands…"

Jack looked on his left side to see Rose still clutching his fingers.

_Yep_, he thought happily, _good hands_…

* * *

**A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter. I think I should do a story for Dr. Frauenfelder just coz its fun writing him.**  
**Umm...I didn't _really_ get permission to do so, so I hope this author can forgive me if I do a promo for her. Dr. Frauendfelder is loosely based on Prof. Flip from queenofsaturn14's story _Whatever Happend To The Dursleys_? Its in my favorites list if you want to read it, I know I'm loving it. So yeah, don't let it be said that I don't give credit where credit is due. Oh yeah, and the name comes from my Latin Teacher, Dr. F (abbreviated for obvious reasons...)**

**~FND~**


	7. Do We Understand Each Other?

**A/N: This is after chapter four, just so y'all don't confused. **_**Enjoy**_.

Happy Idiots

_"They asked for those who were the in need of help the most," said Charlie quickly before she could open her mouth, "we rowed over to the side and they lowered a cot down for him. Your husband's in good hands." _

_"He's not my husband," Rose muttered distractedly, looking up at the ship._

She saw Charlie shrug, and out of the corner of her eye the one called Benson shrugged back.

_Let them think what they want_, Rose thought wearily, _I don't care anymore_.

The occupants of Lifeboat 14 were transferred to Number 12. Of the people who had been pulled out of the water, only three others had made it through the night. The various boats were being hoisted up onto the Carpathia; from bits of conversation, Rose heard that a few of the lifeboats were still adrift. When she asked about it, the man turned around and gave her a rude look.

"We'll pick them up, don't worry," he said in a condescending tone. Rose was about to snap back that everyone was tired and miserable and he didn't need to be rude on top of it when the boat rocked suddenly and she stumbled forward. Several people screamed.

"Calm down," said one of the crewmen, exhaustion evident in his voice, "we've got it all under control now, just stay down, keep still, and this'll all be over soon." Rose happened to look over and see a small, poorly dressed family: the two young children were huddled in the crook of their mother's arm and a teen-aged girl was wearily leaning on her other shoulder. Their father was painfully absent.

_This isn't over_, Rose thought, _this won't _ever_ be over for some of these people_.

_Or for you_, said a small, nasty voice in the back of her head, (which she'd often noted sounded uncannily like her mother).

_Shut up_, she told it, _Jack's going to be fine. We'll _both_ come out of this, you'll see._

_You let him stay in that water for you for _far_ too long, Rose_. You _killed him_. _When he dies_…

"He won't!" she snapped out loud, causing several people to stare at her, despite their circumstances.

More boats continued to arrive and Twelve was continually shunted to the back of the queue. Finally, the very last one to be hauled over, Lifeboat No. 12, formally of the _R.M.S Titanic_, was hooked up and swung over the side of the _Carpathia_.

Rose waited for the other passengers to get off before stumbling to her own weary feet and off the boat. She watched as the mother woke her two children and she and the older daughter half-carried, half-dragged them over to a bench on the _Carpathia_'s deck. As her eyes followed them, Rose saw a sight that made her heart freeze. Just behind the family were two figures who were arguing back and forth; both of them seemed to be getting quite hysterical.

The woman was elegantly dressed, already having shed her lifebelt so as (most likely) to show off her fancy clothes. She was crying and shouting at the equally well-dressed man across from her. He was tall, with dark hair, and was using his hands to violently explain something to the woman. It was, of course, Ruth Bukater and Caledon Hockley. Rose's mother and fiance.

Rose stood staring at them, slack-jawed. They were yelling loud enough for everyone to hear them but no one was paying any attention. Who cared for the "woes" of the rich? Despite their volume, it took a few moments for Rose to comprehend the words.

"I thought you were going to make sure she was on a boat!" Ruth yelled, her voice getting higher and squeakier with rage.

"She ran off with _him_," Cal shouted back, "what was I supposed to do? If she believed he could take care of her so much better than I, then she deserved to pay for her mistake!"

"_Deserved!_ You believe my daughter _deserved_ to drown?" Ruth Bukater drew herslef up to her full height and glared at Cal for all she was worth.

"Your daughter was a _whore_!" Cal said, spitting out the last word, "she admitted it herself!"

"_How dare you_," Ruth said, her eyes wide, "how dare you accuse my daughter of…of…" Ruth drew her hand back and slapped Cal across the face. Rose couldn't help but grin until Cal grabbed Ruth's arm and shook her hard like a disobedient dog. The expression on his face was the same that he had given Rose the night before. The crowd had now pushed the arguing couple close enough to Rose so that she could hear Cal's angry, whispered words.

"If I _do_ find your daughter on this ship," he said, glaring Ruth defiantly in the eye, "especially with that _boy_, I _will_ marry her and give both of you merry hell for the rest of your lives…You still need me, Ruth…or did you forget?"

Rose checked herself, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and up over her head like a hood: they wouldn't recognize her until she stood on their feet. Rose wandered closer until she could watch, heart-broken, as the resolve crumbled in her mother's face as she sold both her own fate and potentially her daughter's to this bastard.

"Yes," she muttered before adding as an afterthought. "...And the boy?...If he did survive?"

"All you need is the right amount of money and the right person and he's just a victem of the sinking." Ruth paled but it was nothing compared to what Rose felt. Her heart stopped and she couldn't breathe; her insides had turned to ice. She had to fine Jack, _now_, before Cal did. But first? First, she had to see how this ended: would her mother sell them out or stay strong against the pulls of wealth and society?

"So we understand each other?" Cal asked Ruth, smiling like a beast that had just cornered its prey.

_Don't do it mother!_ Rose wanted to shout, but she knew it was already too late. Her mother couldn't live without the security she placed so heavily on money.

"Yes," Ruth muttered, "...we do." Cal smiled again, and finally dropped Ruth's arm. Still smiling, he waltzed off into the crowd, leaving Ruth behind to stare at the ground like all point in life was gone. Rose sadly left her behind, knowing that even if she were to go and reassure her own mother she was alive; she would immediately be turned over to Cal.

_I am never going back to that_, she thought, _and I am not going to let them find me. Or Jack._

With that, and one final, despairing glance back at her mother, Rose DeWitt Bukater disappeared into the crowd.

**A/N: Okay, so I know that hardly any of this is historically accurate (but neither is the rest of the story) but rest assured that if I was getting _paid_ for this I would not be so lackluster on the facts. However, this is just fanfiction and the only thing that counts are the reviews I get…or don't: I've gotten _six_ and half of them are from Lady Elena Dawson who remains _awesome_!**


	8. The Head Doctor

Happy Idiots

Rose approached one of the _Carpathia_'s crewmen, hoping that he could tell her where she would find Jack. The crewman was holding a clipboard and taking down the names of the people he passed.

"Name?" he asked when Rose reached him.

"I'm sorry?"

"We're putting together a list of the survivors…This is big news you know! The whole world wants to know about it!" Rose regarded him coldly. He seemed excited that he was suddenly in the middle of such "big news" despite that, even at the most optimistic estimate, at least twelve hundred people must have died. Rose pushed past him despite his look of surprise and annoyance and strode up to another crewman a few yards away, also with a clipboard.

"Josephine Stephens," the woman ahead of her was saying, "and this is Lawrence Stephens…and Abigail Stephens."

"Ages?"

"Fifteen…Nine…Four." The man nodded, wrote these down, and looked down at the two children holding Josephine's hands. The boy seemed to be asleep on his feet and the girl's thumb was in her mouth.

"Any…other family?" The man asked gently.

Josephine shook her head.

"My parents were Elizabeth and Alexander Stephens, 37 and 43, we were traveling third class." She said gruffly. The man nodded, flipped up a page and wrote the names down on a different list. Josephine bit her lip.

"Miss," the man asked quietly, "do you have any other family...in America I mean?"

"I expect…at least my _hope_ is that our grandparents will take us in." She looked down at the younger two and bit her lip again. The man put a hand on her shoulder and looked the girl in the eyes.

"I've already heard of charities being set up," he said in a reassuring tone, "someone will take care of you."

Josephine nodded stiffly.

"Thank you sir," she said. With that, the little Stephens family walked over to the railing, sat down, and leaned against it; all slumped together in a heap. Josephine took the smaller girl into her lap and buried her face in her sister's hair...

"Name?" said the man, startling Rose out of her reverie.

"I—um…" Rose started, suddenly remembering the results of what would happen if either she or Jack were found. "Roberts," she said finally, "Olivia Roberts."

"Age?"

"Twenty-one." The man gave her look but Rose returned it with her prettiest smile. He moved on.

"Class?"

"Third."

"Are you...alone?" He asked slowly, indicating the bedraggled crowds on deck. Rose shook her head.

"My, er, _friend _was pulled up from the lifeboats for urgent care. Can you tell me where he was taken?"

"Certainly," said the man and he pointed down the boat's deck at a door. He seemed delighted to finally be giving someone good news. "The persons in need of immediate aid were taken to the sick bay. See that door there? Go through it and down the stairwell, then you're going to turn left and then…well then you…then you just ask somebody from there." Rose thanked him and turned as he began to talk to an old woman who was fabulously dressed (and looking far out-of-place).

Rose let herself in through the indicated door and clambered down the stairway. She let her eyes take in the sight of what had probably once been a lobby but was now the recently converted holding bay for releif supplies. Blankets were heaped in one corner, coats in another, pillows and a few small toys for children piled together in the center.

"When they find out 'bout all this down 'ere," Rose heard crewman saying to his friend, "there's goin' to be a mad dash for it all...oh _no_, there's one now!" Rose realized they were both looking up at her.

"I won't cause any trouble," she said quickly, "if you'll just point me to the sick bay."

"Sure lady," said the man, relief obvious in his face. He pointed in the opposite direction, "you jus' go down that hallway under these 'ere steps, down the way to the righ', take an immediate lef', down those steps and you're righ' at one of the entrances to the sick bay. The main entrance is back there," he waved vaguely behind him, "but if you jus' sneak in through the back they shouldn't kick you out.

"Thanks," said Rose a little uncertainly and she pelted off to follow the directions.

"'Choo see that?" she heard from behind her, "pretty girl jus' talked to me."

"Give it rest, Phillip," laughed the other, but Rose was already out of ear-shot.

She opened the door a crack, remembering Phillip's mention of getting kicked out, and peeked in. Her discreetness, however, was made futile, for a person wearing a pink ascot spotted her from across the room.

"You there!" He bellowed and suddenly he had crossed the room and flung the door open wide, "what are you doing here?"

Of the tall sprout of hair on the top of the man's head to the absurd amount of clothing he was wearing to the regular twitch of the tick in his face, or the bright pink ascot he was wearing, Rose didn't know which of this man's aspects were his weirdest.

"Um…er…" she hemmed, before the man burst out laughing.

"Well didn't you just sneak your way in here!" he cried, "I've got a mob of family members waiting outside the main door and _you_ manage to get in? _Uh-Har Har, Uh-Har Har_!" He kept laughing until there were tears in his eyes. Rose just stared.

"Alright," he said finally as if they'd just agreed to something, and wiped his eyes, "I'll let you in for your _explorer skills_! Figuring your way around the boat already…!" He laughed again as if it was the most amusing thing in the world that he was speaking to Rose. "But you'll have to help me around here, we're short-staffed as it is."

Rose nodded. From the sound of things, the only way to see Jack was to promise her help to this strange man, whoever he was. He smiled.

"We have an accord?" He shouted, beaming at her and sticking his hand out to shake. She shook his hand, hardly noticing that it was as smooth and uncalloused as a boy's.

"What's your name, my dear girl?"

"Ro—, no…_Olivia_. Olivia Roberts."

"My pleasure, Miss Roberts. I am Orien Allan Apollo Fraunfelder, Head Doctor of the _R.M.S. Carpathia_."

**A/N: So for further reference, Frauenfelder is pronounced FRAW-in-fel-der. Or Frankenstein (if you're in Latin II like me) or Farfencougar, or Farenheit, or Frownyface...**


	9. At the End of the Day

Happy Idiots

That was how Rose had met Dr. Frauenfelder. After setting her to the task of refilling the bedside supply stores so the nurses could do the more important things, he giggled and disappeared, now muttering darkly about amputations.

Rose tried to flit around the sick bay and find Jack but there was always someone else calling her over for more bandage strips or water bottles or painkillers or "_get the doctor now!_"

Every time she saw or heard of someone dying from the complications of hypothermia or having their limbs amputated, her blood ran cold and she prayed to God that it wasn't her Jack.

By the end of the day, (thank God) things had calmed down a little. Those in need of immediate help had been seen to, other survivors were being taken care of, and the families had been allowed in to see their loved ones.

Rose, exhausted, began to walk down the rows and rows of people. The room was one long one, with beds against both walls and windows allowing light in along the port side in the daytime. Now though, it was late and only the reflected moonlight from the waves came in through the windows. Otherwise, the only lights were the small lamps on the bedside table at every other cot. Most were out so that families and patients could get some rest and the result left the sick bay immersed in a dark, quiet atmosphere.

Rose tried to keep her worry at bay as she passed person after person. She reached the end of the first row and started on the second, watching for the blonde head. The panic was beginning to grow as she reached half-way. She passed the curtains around one bed where someone was under surgery and kept going. Five more people…four more…none of these had blonde hair except for the one in the corner who was shrouded in dark…one more…

Rose caught her breath. It wasn't him. Jack wasn't anywhere. Jack was gone. They'd done what they could, surely, but it hadn't been enough. He was easily distinguishable as a third-class passenger; they would have dumped him overboard. "Buried at sea" was the more refined term...She was going to live her life without him, and never hear him talk or laugh or joke, or as much as see his face one last time…

Rose leaned against the wall and slid down, fear, guilt, and mostly shock threatening to overwhelm her.

He couldn't possibly be…They had come so far…

_You let him stay in the water, Rose_, said the evil voice, _it's as good as murder_.

"No," she said, her voice cracking. She shook her head angrily and tried to push the tears back but they kept building up.

_I will not blink. I will not give in. I do not accept it_…

She blinked.

The inevitable, confounded tear rolled down her cheek.

And then the dam broke.

Rose buried her face in her knees and wrapped her arms around herself like a small child. She tried to cry quietly but it was in vain: these were the horrible, choking, racking sobs that were so hard to hide.

Nothing could possibly be worse than this. She would much rather be dead. That wasn't such a bad thing to want after all. Who _would_ want to live when the only person they had ever _truly_ allowed themself to love had been taken away?

Rose rocked herself back and forth, burying her face further in to the folds of her dress.

Why did this have to happen? What had she done to deserve _this_?

"Olivia?" said a voice, "…_Olivia!_"

Rose realized the voice was speaking to her and she slowly looked up, swallowing hard.

"What happened?" It was one of the nurses that Rose had been helping that day—Alice was her name. Rose had told her she was looking for a man with blonde hair and blue eyes and if she treated him, could she please let Rose help. Alice had promised. She was still young but obviously a few years older than Rose; her face was full of concern.

Rose wasn't used to people wanting to know about her or help her. Jack was one of the first people to bother trying to understand who she was. Jack, however, had been snatched away and there was no bringing him back…

"I'm fine," Rose whispered.

"You're not fine," said Alice, joining Rose on the floor, "you're anything _but_ fine."

Rose shook her head.

"You were 'fine' earlier…" Alice started.

"Please leave me alone," Rose whispered but the other girl went on doggedly.

"…so something must have happened since then…

"I don't want to talk about it—"

"…and could it have anything to do with your dreamy blue-eyed friend?"

Rose froze, biting her bottom lip so hard it drew blood, and glared at the other woman, wondering how she could have the nerve to bring this up when Rose was so obviously in pain. She was even more shocked to see that Alice had a barely concealed grin on her face.

"Your boy's a looker," said Alice, to Rose's growing surprise and anger, "I'm almost disappointed to tell you you missed him as we were finishing up." Alice pointed to the cot that had been curtained off, still grinning. Even so, it took Rose a few seconds to comprehend.

"You mean that…" she stared at the cot, a small flame of hope daring to flare up inside of her. A lamp was burning at the bedside table and she could see that the cot's occupant was indeed flaxen-haired.

"We were just wrapping up and I saw you go by. He's lost the last three toes on his left foot but otherwise he's fine. He should wake up by tomorrow." Alice seemed to thoroughly enjoy being the bearer of good news. Rose, however, was still struggling to get over the most important fact.

"He's…alive?" she managed to say.

"'Course," said Alice, laughing as she got to her feet, "he should wake up tomorrow afternoon."

Rose's jaw was hanging open as Alice, still chuckling, heaved her to her feet. Rose snapped out of her trance and raced over to the bedside where she found him. He was pale—but it didn't matter because he was no longer _blue_…He was apparently missing three tows—but it didn't matter because he could _walk_…He was sleeping—but it didn't matter because he was _alive_.

Rose took the seat beside him and clutched his hand. She smoothed the hair away from his face and traced his bottom lip. He twitched once and sighed before turning away from her in his sleep.

Another tear leaked out of her eye and Rose brushed it away, smiling now; because Jack was so obviously alive and she knew that they were both going to make it.

Rose turned her chair so she could lean against the wall and, still holding his hand, fell asleep.

The last thing she thought she felt before succumbing to the exhaustion was a twitch from Jack's hand as he gripped her fingers tighter.

**A/N: SurferGirl3000, Lady Elena Dawson, Sydney, and MissRenesmeeCarlieCullen17: I LOVE you guys! ;D**


	10. A Proposal

Happy Idiots

Jack woke up the following day, just as Alice had predicted. After Dr. Frauenfelder had taken his blood pressure and made him practice walking around without the extra balance on his left foot, he let Jack go back to bed.

Even though he'd only walked the length of the sick bay and back, Jack looked exhausted from the exertion. Rose forced him to lie down and relax while they talked about their plans for the rest of the day.

"They're making for New York now," she told him, perched on the edge of his cot, "we'll be there tomorrow." Rose traced the contours and calluses of his hand distractedly as she spoke.

"New York," he muttered, "…I suppose it'll be an option for them to take us Philadelphia?"

She nodded. "That's what I've heard."

"We could take those train tickets and trade them for ones part way to Chicago…though I bet we could get enough help to get us all the way there…charity, though, I don't like the idea of charity…" he was talking more to himself and by the way his eyes kept flitting around, Rose could tell he was doing some quick thinking.

"Chicago?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said vaguely, "Once Chicago we can go to Milwaukee or maybe Oshkosh…then jump the tracks on the way to Minneapolis when they stop at Eau Claire…" he trailed off again, pursing his lips as he thought. She hated to interrupt him but it did seem important to know:

"Jack, where are we going…to end up, I mean?"

He paused and looked up at her, a bashful look on his face.

"Oh yeah," he said, blushing, "sorry, I was thinking, um…Chippewa Falls?"

He looked at her expectantly as though half-afraid of what her response would be. Rose didn't know why he was. What was so special about Chip…?

"_Oh!_" she cried suddenly, "you want to go back to your family!"

He nodded. "I kinda made a promise that I'd be back in three years and, well, it's been three years and nearly four months. Any longer and my little sister will have my head…"

"Emily!" Rose said, proud that she had remembered.

"Yeah," he said still watching her warily, "are you okay with it if we go home, er, my home? It's just that they're probably getting antsy. I haven't been able to write them since I was in Berlin five months ago and…"

"Jack, I'd love to," she said, grinning at him.

"Really?" he seemed genuinely surprised, "you're not just saying that…?"

"No, I really do want to meet your family. After the way you were talking about them and their farm on the ship…" she trailed off, choosing to not think about the Ship of Dreams that had gone down with so many people aboard. Jack seemed to understand.

"How much did I tell you about them?" he asked, sensing the _Titanic_ in the offing and skirting around it.

"Not a whole lot…your oldest brother is Bill, then Casper and Isabelle are twins…but Isabelle's married off, right?"

"Uh-huh," he said, biting his lip, "listen; about Izzy…she didn't really leave the family on good terms."

"Oh?"

"She ran off with some guy when she was seventeen…it nearly killed Mother."

Rose pressed her lips together.

"Jack, what exactly do you think _I'm_ about to do?" she asked sarcastically. He looked up at her, confused, until a wry grin twisted his mouth.

"We're different," he chuckled.

"How so?" she asked, unamused. If "Izzy" had left the family on bad terms in the same fashion Rose was entering it, she doubted it would look very good to people whose opinion suddenly mattered very much to her. With any luck future family members…

"Isabelle did the opposite of what you're doing Rose," said Jack, serious now, "she didn't like being a middle-class woman and didn't want to work for life. She expected it to be handed to her on a silver plate. She fought a lot with Mother and basically made life hard for everyone. You can't pick family, but," Jack shrugged, "Isabelle…was a real pain in the neck.

"Anyway, she traded up and eloped with some hot shot from Minneapolis who was on his way back home to Chicago. He had to be at _least_ fifteen years older than her. Set to inherit a lot of money from his father's textile business. Still, he was a real jerk; and only wanted her because she was young and willing to get married to the first wealthy guy to pass through Chippewa."

"Hm," Rose muttered cynically, "he sounds familiar…maybe I've met him." .

Jack grinned.

"The name 'Tannenbaum' ring a bell?" he asked.

Rose shook her head.

"Pity, though," she said, grinning back at him, "Since that kind of person seems _soo_ appealing."

Jack laughed at the sarcasm dripping in her voice and she joined him.

"Go on," she told him after a moment, "...with your story."

"Oh yeah," he said, still chuckling, "so she ran off, took her departure as an excellent opportunity to say some choice things to Mother, and to my knowledge has never spoken to any of us again."

Rose paused, unsure of what to say. Jack seemed to read her mind and shrugged, showing that it didn't bother him.

"None of us liked her much in the first place," he said by way of explanation.

"Oh," was all Rose could think of.

"Yeah," said Jack, pursing his lips, "anyway, after Casper and Isabelle there's me…I'm two years younger."

"How old are they?" Rose interrupted.

"Bill's twenty-three; Casper and Izzy should be twenty-two as of last month; I'm twenty; Em's next, she's fourteen; then Joshua, he should be twelve now…only eight when I left; and then there's—er—_was_ Clara," Jack sighed wearily, "she would have been nine."

He pressed his lips together and forced a dry smile.

"She was nearly six when I left," he said sadly, "Tiny thing…you could pick her up and just swing her around in circles for hours without getting tired…You'd see her little white-blonde head come bobbing around the corners…_huge _blue eyes." He paused and sighed again.

"Apparently it was the fever that got her, nearly a year and a half ago. Emily wrote to tell me in Marseille but I'd already moved on. The letter kept following me around Italy and only caught up in Vienna. Em said I needed to come home now so I ran it by Fabi and he said he wanted to come to America anyway. We curved up to Berlin before setting off for Southampton."

Jack bit his lip and Rose could tell he was thinking about Clara and his friend Fabrizio. (They had checked with a crewman all the names that Jack could think of. Of the people he had met on board, none had survived.) Jack gave himself a little shake.

"We'll do a tour of The West though," he said, obviously trying to put a more optimistic spin on things, "but I think I should check in and see everyone at home first."

Rose smiled, laid down beside him, and nuzzled her face into his chest. His hand automatically began to play with the tips of her red hair. They lapsed into a comfortable silence until Rose spoke.

"One thing, though, Jack," she said, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.

"What's that?" he muttered into her hair, simultaneously sending shivers down her spine.

"Before we go Out West together…"

"Uh huh?"

"Shouldn't…well shouldn't we get married?" She tried not to blush but couldn't help her burning face. Jack remained ominously silent, just nudged her to turn over and face him. Rose twisted around and found her face very close to his and noted with relief that he was smiling: squinty eyes, dimples, everything. She remembered that he hadn't kissed her properly since she'd jumped back onto the sinking ship…and that had been a scared, rushed affair as they both tried to reassure themselves that the other was really there and it wasn't some fantastic dream.

Rose guessed that Jack had just reached the same conclusion because the next second she felt his hot breath on her lips and the next she had closed what little distance there was between them and his arm was tightly wrapped around her waist and his other hand held her head against his. Rose's eyes fluttered shut as his fingers tangled themselves into her hair and he deepened the kiss. She was putty in his arms and he knew it. She was melting into him and could have stayed lost in the moment forever. He was her forever and they both knew it. Now it was just a matter of making it official,

"Rose," Jackwhispered when they finally broke apart for air, "...will you marry me?"

She smiled into his mouth as she kissed him again, the exhilaratingly happy feeling pulsing from her toes to her hair roots.

"Yes," she whispered.

Jack was about to say something else when a cheer went up from around them. Rose turned around and blushed deep scarlet. Apparently they had drawn a crowd there in the sick bay.

She felt Jack laughing and turned to glare at him when he pulled her into another kiss. The people laughed at them again and dispersed after a bit, though some of them stayed to well-wish the couple. Rose was more than a little embarrassed but Jack hugged her tighter to him and she decided that maybe she didn't mind so much. It was hard to miss how the heart-felt, excited words a few people came up to say contrasted starkly with the bored reception she and Cal's engagement had received.

Rose buried her head into Jack's shoulder. Her life had just started over and she couldn't think of a better way to start out the new one.

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update, I gave you a longer chapter to make up for it (I hope) As always, I love reviews!**


	11. Meet Me at the Statue

Happy Idiots

Jack carefully pushed his way through the crowd on his way to the bow of the _Carpathia_. One hand he held out in front of him as a shield and the other was behind, clutching Rose's fingers as he guided her through the throng. It was rainy and gray and perfectly reflected the mood of everyone on board. Honestly, Jack knew he should be obligated to feel equally miserable. After all, he'd not only lost several really great friends in the accident but there were also the other people he'd known on board. Men, women, and children who he'd laughed with and talked to but hadn't bothered to remember their names. Now he wouldn't ever have the chance.

Jack gave himself a shake. One) his friends wouldn't want him to dwell over their demise just like Jack would hate it if anybody grieved him. And Two) as heartless as it sounded, the deaths of stranger wasn't his problem. There was nothing he could have done to save them, so there was no use to linger over it. He needed to concentrate on the moment at hand.

Jack had been declared fully functional and cleared from the medical bay as of that morning. Now he and Rose were busy trying to fight their way through the multitudes of people and get off the deck as quickly as they could. It was against his better judgment, to move with the easily-trampling surge, especially since he was still unstable on his feet. (Honestly, how much difference did three stupid toes make!?) But they needed to get away from these people and avoid being recognized.

Jack hadn't ever been officially on the roster of the _Titanic_ so they had left it that way to avoid suspicion. However, According to Dr. Fraunenfelder, Rose DeWitt Bukater was being searched for. (Rose had confessed to him the basic outline of their story and he was very sympathetic (breaking down into tears and offering the use of a red polka dot handkerchief). Dr. Frauenfelder had discreetly told one of the men to affirm that Rose had perished in the water the night of the sinking.) Despite this, Jack obviously didn't want either Rose or himself to be seen by Mrs. Bukater or—heaven forbid—trigger-happy Caledon Hockley. Rose had said that he was going to be looking for them but the urgency and fear in her voice made Jack sense that was more to it than just that…

"Oof," huffed a short woman who Jack had just been pushed into, "…sorry about that."

"No problem," he replied distractedly, "my fault." The woman pushed off again behind him into the crowd and his eyes followed her back until he found Rose. She was wearing a dark green scarf over her bright red hair; a long, gray overcoat hanging on her shoulders. She still looked exhausted from the nights she'd spent sitting up next to him, despite his insistence at her finding somewhere comfortable to sleep, and there were still dark bags under her eyes.

"You okay?" he asked her. She smiled at him, amused and grateful at once.

"As many times as you ask that, one would think you'd figure out I'm fine." She said in a lofty voice. He grinned.

"Just checking…" he trailed off as his eyes focused on a pair of women behind Rose.

One was a short, dumpy, brown-haired woman wearing expensive clothing. Margaret Brown. While otherwise, Jack would have spoken to her, he decided it was best not to because of the woman beside Mrs. Brown. This companion of hers was equally well-dressed, tall, gaunt and redheaded. It was Ruth DeWitt Bukater. Jack immediately felt his heart sinking because that meant that not far behind would be…

The open, blue eyes met the cold, calculating, brown ones. Caledon Hockely's face went from a mask of indifference to a horrifyingly stormy one. Jack gulped once but didn't let himself blink. A cold smile twitched on Hockley's face and Jack immediately let go of Rose's hand.

"Jack…?" she asked her smile faltering. Jack faced away from her but dropped back enough so she could hear what he was saying.

"Do _not_ turn around," he whispered to her fiercely, "its Cal. He hasn't seen you." Rose felt her heart rate speed up, terrified.

"What do we do?"

"I'm gonna bolt that way off the ship the second I can. They're about to let us all off—"

"Jack I'm coming with you." Rose insisted, already knowing (and dreading) where this argument was going.

Jack shook his head firmly, still not looking at her.

"See the Statue of Liberty? I'll be in the crown okay?"

"That's a long way—"

"I only need enough time to shake him. I promise I'll see you there, okay? Just get up to the Statue."

"No, we'll go together, remember? You jump, I j..." The crowd suddenly went quiet and Jack turned around to find the source. The gangplanks had been dropped and the gates were about to open. He saw that Cal had gotten closer, his eyes narrowed with malice. Once people started to move it would be the perfect moment for him to pounce forward. Jack turned forward again and hissed at her,

"Rose, don't argue with me! I told you we were going to make it and we've come this far. We're so close to being on American soil!" A weary cheer went up as the gates were opened and suddenly the whole ship was alive with people pushing and shoving to get off at once. Jack ducked down in the distraction, grabbed Rose roughly by the shoulders, and pulled her with him beneath the headline of the tumultuous crowd.

"Rose, listen to me," he said, desperately trying to make her understand, "I love you so much, okay? And I need you to do this for me. I'll be fine-it'll just be easier for a lone person to slip away. Okay?" She nodded weakly but the resolve in her eyes let him know he could trust her. Jack kissed her once, twice; and slipped away into the crowd.

* * *

Rose blinked but Jack had utterly disappeared. She pulled the scarf lower down on her forehead and surreptitiously turned her head as if to sneeze. She saw Cal fighting his way angrily through the masses, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. He was making for one of the gangplanks with a horribly familiar, terrifyingly livid expression on his face. Rose followed his eyes and saw the now equally-familiar blonde head that was also pushing his way down the bridge to the port. Her stomach dropped when she realized how much more careful Jack was being and that the delay was costing him dearly. Already, Cal was at the railing and Jack wasn't even on land yet.

_He'll be fine_, she thought, _he'll get off on land and easily slip away into the crowd_. She reassured herself and entered the stream of people who were waiting more patiently to get off the boat. Rose positioned herself near the railing to watch, but the sight she saw made her heart stop cold.

Jack had successfully reached the bottom of the extension just as Cal was getting on when he swooned. Rose realized in horror that Jack's sea legs coupled with the extra balance missing on his left had just caused him to stumble. He started to go again, one step on his right, one wobbly to his left, one right, and then…and then he crumpled to the ground, just as Cal drew up on top of him.

* * *

**A/N: Aack, _NO_, not Jack! The worst is about to come when I tell that school starts for me on Friday (three days) and I won't be able to finish this! You'll have to wait till next summer! Noooooo...!**

**Just kidding, but updates will definately be slowing down, (sorry that's just how it works,) and believe me, I'm upset too. Ah well...Till next time _mon amis_ (sp?)**

**~FND~**


	12. Unofficial Annulment

Happy Idiots

Jack rolled over onto his back just as Cal grabbed him under the arm and yanked him to his feet. Jack tried to scramble away but the port swayed suddenly beneath his feet. Cal held him in firmly place.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Dawson," he said in a clipped voice. His teeth were clenched and his grip on Jack's arm was cutting off the circulation to his hand. It was embarrassing, to say the least, to be physically treated like this, but as Jack tried to put the support on his feet again and lunge away, they buckled violently beneath him. Cal smirked at him. How had the bastard gotten his legs back so quickly? Jack wondered briefly why Hockley hadn't taken the full advantage of his balance and shot Jack point-blank already or at least given him a good black eye.

Then it dawned on him.

_ Of course_, Cal couldn't afford a scene here, not with the press snapping shots of the survivors already.

"It's a real pleasure to see you again too, sir," Jack responded finally, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The cold smile went unfazed.

"You think you're rather clever, don't you?"

Jack shrugged, trying to simultaneously shake the oxygen into his hand. He, quite understandably, had a thing about blood circulation now and knew he would forever hate the feeling of any part of his body going to sleep. Caledon Hockley, however, was having none of it. Jack moved on smoothly and replied,

"I know how smart I am. I try not to overstep myself." The unspoken insult of how Jack had, very much overstepping himself, stolen the other man's fiancée was flung at Cal and Jack saw it (with no small amount of satisfaction) dawn in his face the moment he understood. Unfortunately, Jack felt it too.

Cal gripped his arm tighter.

"_How dare you_…" he hissed and Jack could practically see the flames coming out of his eyes.

Jack backed up, and noticed with relief that the dock hadn't tipped so much this time. He smirked at the other man; something he knew would infuriate him.

"Now, now, Hockley," Jack taunted in a condescending voice, "You see we're on American soil now; with press, and photographers, and something else called _rights_. Now those may not apply to vermin like me when we're out on the big blue but believe-it-or-not, you can go to _jail_ here."

Something flashed in Cal's eyes. It wasn't fear, but it was close enough. Jack grinned at him.

"Now, Mr. Hockley, if you don't mind allowing me the use of my fingers again, I'd thank you to let go of my arm." When Cal didn't respond, most likely out of shock that a man as inferior as Jack Dawson could have the upper-hand, Jack added, "Or I could start yelling and carrying on…I had three older siblings, so I'm very good at it."

Cal dropped Jack's arm like it was on fire and gaped at him. Jack kept smirking right back. He stood up straighter, (tipsy-free, mind you,) stared back at Cal for a moment, nodded to him with the grace of an equal, and pivoted on his heel, heading straight for the Statue of Liberty.

"I'll find you!" spluttered a voice behind him.

Jack spared him only an over-the-shoulder glance.

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Hockley," he said in a polite, aloof voice. Then he began to leave again.

"I'll find her, too."

Jack's blood turned to ice. His jaw clenched and his shoulders went rigid. But he forced himself to take a deep breath.

_ You've got to sell this_, he thought, _Make. It. Count_.

Jack turned again to face Cal one final time and swallowed dramatically. He bit at the insides of his cheeks and pressed his lips together.

"Who?"

"You know who," Cal snapped.

Jack shook his head, an anguished look on his face.

"You read the roster?" he asked, his voice suddenly broken and hollow. Cal snorted.

"You don't actually expect me to believe this?"

Jack shook his head again.

"Why would I? Why should it matter to you?"

"She was my fiancée, and I know you wouldn't let her die. You're too foolish, too hopeless, too _simple_, to be here without taking care of her first."

Jack let his shoulders shake before fixing his posture. The "grief" however, was too much and he began to tremble all over.

"You'd think that," he said, his voice miserable, "You'd think that after what I tried to do she would have—she would have..." Jack trailed off, swallowing hard on his agony. A flicker of doubt crossed Cal's face.

Unbidden, Jack's eyes shifted momentarily to a figure behind Cal, someone clad in a dark green scarf and a long, gray overcoat, her green eyes squinting at him in amusement.

_ Uh-oh_.

If he had an audience, Jack didn't know how well he could keep up his acting skills. Thank heavens he had a good poker face.

"I already know you're a good liar." Cal sneered. Jack's jaw went slack in disbelief.

"How could you possibly think I would be lying right now?" he cried, "Why the _hell_ would I? You know I want right now? I wish it was me! I'd give anything to see her again, you hear me, _anything_!"

Jack tore at his hair and advanced on Cal in his madness and by default the woman behind him. He knew he looked quite deranged by the flash of anxiety in Cal's eyes. Who knew what a grief-stricken man would feel driven to do? Behind him, the scarfed lady was biting her lip, shaking hard, in an effort to keep her laugh in. Jack almost grinned at her. Almost.

"She drowned then?" Cal said coldly. If there was any emotion behind the words, any sadness no matter how small, he was holding it back. His indifference was obviously calculated to piss Jack off. Jack trembled again in response.

"Really?" Cal said indifferently, drawing from Jack's reaction what he perceived to be the truth, "Pity. She was a pretty thing after all, Ros—"

"Don't!" Jack yelled, "Don't say her name! How can you possibly say her name now! How can you live with yourself? Why doesn't the world know yet? Why isn't the world mourning yet?" He stormed around in a circle, anything to restrain himself from leaping at Hockley in his inconsolable sorrow. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Rose flee into the crowds for fear of letting loose with a giggle. She was bolting off towards the Statue.

"You don't—you can't—don't you dare—" Jack heaved, pointing a finger at Cal, "Just stay away from me!" He shouted wildly and began backing up.

Cal gave him one final assessing look and seemed to decide that his actions matched up with his words. Jack just hoped that by the time Cal remembered how nonchalant he'd been at first, he and Rose would be long gone on their way to Chicago.

Cal sniffed derisively.

"She deserved it." he said and without another word, spun around to find a cab, leaving Jack to stand watching him with a shocked and heartbroken expression until he'd disappeared around the corner.

"That—was—_brilliant_." breathed a voice in his ear. He turned around to see Rose grinning at him impishly.

"_You're alive!_" he cried, mock-joy and surprise evident in his voice.

She flung her arms around his neck and laughed hard, squealing when he spun her around.

"Where to now, my thespian?" she asked when he set her down. But Jack held a finger against her lips.

"Wait," he said, "I want to enjoy this." He put his arm around her shoulders and turned her around to look up at the Statue of Liberty.

"See her Rose?" he said, the smile on his face blossoming as they gazed up at the brightly burning lantern. "She means 'do-over.' She means equal opportunities; responsibility, pride and joy, freedom…"

"And she means home." Rose finished.

Jack turned to grin down at her and rolled his forehead against hers.

"_Our_ home," he whispered.

"_Our_ home," she agreed.

**A/N: This was a lot of fun writing, let me tell you.  
Please Review, as always, it makes my day and makes me want to update faster!  
Next up—the journey to Chippewa Falls! Woot woot!**

**~FND~**

**P.S. **_**thespian**_**: (n) an actor, an actress. **


	13. The Milwaukee Depot

Happy Idiots

"Rose?..._Rose?_ Come on, Rose, wake up!" The gentle prodding on her shoulder grew firmer until Rose couldn't pretend anymore and blinked awake, glaring around her.

"We've gotta switch trains now. You can sleep on my lap again later, okay?" Rose turned to look up, squinting against the light. Her head was lying on Jack's legs: the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was him stroking her hair. That had been yesterday, April 22nd, leaving Chicago. They'd spent a week in New York, ("Alright Rose, we will _definitely_ be coming back here again.") and then three days in Chicago. So now there were…somewhere. Definitely somewhere.

"Jack," Rose muttered sleepily, "Where are we?"

"Milwaukee." Came the response, "We're in luck; I found a trip straight to Eau Claire: they need supplies and the train's carrying one passenger car."

"Eau Claire," Rose repeated stupidly, sitting up and stretching, "...and that's close to your home, right?" Instead of answering, Jack's arms suddenly snaked around her waist and he pulled her in close, kissing the back of her neck.

"Yup," he breathed, his lips brushing up from the nape of her neck to her ear. She leaned back into him, groaning when he nipped her.

"Come on then," Jack said suddenly, standing up and pushing her to her feet. Rose's eyes shot open.

"You can't do that!" she cried, whirling around into his arms. He pinned her there and grinned down at her.

"Got you awake, didn't it?" Jack replied, "We're switching trains and it's a long way to Eau Claire…Wonder what we can do the whole time…?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and let her her go as she laughed. It was going to be hard to stay mad at him. Jack grabbed their one, small bag; and lead the way out of the tiny cabin into the rattling hallway. Rose pursed her lips at his retreating back.

"A supplies train going into a small town," she said huffily, "Why doesn't that sound like a very comfortable trip?" Jack only laughed at her and shrugged.

"We'll make it comfortable," he assured, "Come on, the train's slowing down." They fought their way through the growing crowd of people until the small hall down the center of train car was filled tight. Rose grabbed Jack's hand.

"Everyone off!" sang the conductor's deep voice, "Everyone off for Milwaukee!"

"That's us," said Jack, "wait for the swarm to ebb a bit…alright, go here." They pushed their way into a break in the flow and exited the train. The terminal was already bustling and everyone was pushing past each other in a hurry, not caring who anyone else was or where they were going to. Jack was examining the signs.

"We're this way," he said. They went left, struggling through the crowds, trying not to step on anyone, until they reached a larger Number Four. "This is it," said Jack, turning to check the clock, "Train should be here in twenty minutes, give or take a few." He slumped down onto a bench and beckoned her to join him; Rose snuggled into his side.

"Do they know you're coming?" Rose asked after a moment, even though she knew the answer.

"Nope."

"You think they'll be excited?"

"I know Emily will be. Mom and Dad too, probably."

"What about your brothers?"

Jack squirmed a little.

"Joshua wasn't very old when I left. I'm probably the crazy brother everyone talks about who went to Europe to be a starving artist."

"What's wrong with that?"

He shrugged.

"Some, um, well…Bill and Casper…they, er, didn't really support the idea." Rose blinked. From what she'd understood, Bill, Casper, and Jack had all been close in age; she'd assumed they were friends.

"What did they do?" she asked slowly. Jack squirmed again.

"It's kind of a long story," he said.

"We kind of have a long train trip," she retorted

Jack sighed.

"You really want to know this?"

"I suppose I kind of have to—us being engaged an all." She turned around to purse her lips at him again. Jack tried staring her down but eventually rolled his eyes and sighed again.

"Okay," he said finally, "here goes."

…


	14. The Bygone Days of Childhood

Happy Idiots

"First of all, my mother is one the sweetest people in the world. She doesn't have a grudge against anybody, she always goes to bed happy, prays for all the people who've wronged her, that kind of person. However, when you're a kid, it's kind of hard to grow up with those sort of expectations. Isabelle, for one, _hated_ it. She hated that Mother was a saint and she hated that Mother tried to enforce it on us."

"A little holier-than-thou?" Rose put in timidly.

"A bit," Jack allowed, nodding, "And it _was_ annoying at times, but if you just nodded and smiled and did what she told you to, Dad would let us get away with stuff later."

Rose grinned.

"Sounds fun."

Jack nodded, smiling, a distant look in his eye.

"It was," he said, "And except for Isabelle, we all got along pretty well, growing up. Dad's really funny, you'll like him…Bill and Casper have probably been joined at the hip since Casper was born; most people think they're twins at first…Isabelle, as you know, didn't like anybody in particular; poor Emily had to share a room with her. Em's my favorite out of all of them, in case you hadn't guessed; you'll love her."

"What's she like?"

"She's funny," said Jack, "Really funny, probably even more now that she's older…She's very loud, very clumsy, she talks to everything: the dogs, cats, chickens, plants, inanimate objects, you name it…She's a great singer: she wants to be famous one day…She loves to dance around in the rain, barefoot…She loves lightening storms…She used to wish she was a boy, probably still does, so I guess that tells you a lot. She loves to be outdoors. She loves to fish, climb trees, and swim…She's very dramatic…And, let's see...she's a hopeless romantic."

"Like you." Rose said, grinning.

"Just like me." Jack said seriously, "She wants to run off to Europe too."

"And why did you?" Rose pressed, trying to get him back on track. Jack pursed his lips.

"Well…" he said slowly, "After Isabelle ran off, Mom blamed herself. No matter how many times we told her that Izzy was just a rotten egg and there's nothing you can do about it, Mom thought it was her fault. She thought she was being punished by God and tried to make up for it." Jack smiled ruefully.

" 'Didn't know you could get much more saint-like than Mother but she managed it somehow. But anyway, about a year later, the pond in the back of the farm flooded and the water spoiled a whole field of crops. Things got really tight after that. Dad went to his cousin's farm for two weeks to see if he could get some help. The second night he was gone; Bill and Casper disappeared and came back with all sorts of stuff. Boots, knives, cloth, soap, needles, pots and pans; that sort of thing. They said that we could keep it or sell it but either way it would have easily gotten us through the year.

"They'd said they'd found it just "lying around" but the next morning we all heard about a theft from a wagon parked outside a shop in town. They confessed that it was them. Mother nearly died. On one hand she had promised herself to do the right thing all the time, everytime; and on the other she could turn her sons in. It was killing her.

"So I told them that we had to take it all back and they got defensive. I said that we couldn't take the things, look what it was doing to mother, we had to return it all to the shop owner, like that. It got heated; we started yelling at each other, Mother was crying, Emily was trying not to. I think it was Casper who swung the first punch and it all just spiraled out of control from there."

Rose stared at him, shocked that he could speak about it so nonchalantly. Jack caught her look and shrugged.

"They were doing what they thought was the right thing," he said, "Dad was away and they were each trying to prove that they could provide for the family in his absence…I've always been the little runt brother who loved to draw and between the two of them, I didn't stand a chance.

"Emily had been holding Josh back from jumping in to "save" me," Jack said, suddenly chuckling (Rose grew even more concerned at that), "He thought it was good fun that there was a real-live brawl happening in his own kitchen. Finally Em just jumped in and started clawing at Bill and screaming. I think when he rounded on his own little sister and almost hit her there in the heat of the moment did he realize what he was doing…Anyway, they patched me up and Mom made everyone go to bed so we could 'cool our heads and talk over it in the morning'."

Jack shook his head bitterly.

"I ran that night," he said, "I'd been planning to for a while but everyone always talked me out of it. That night, though, that night was the final straw. I wrote them a letter, said I'd write again whenever I could, grabbed everything the other two had stolen, and deposited that on my way to the train station. I rode on top of the caboose as far as I could and then kept hobo-ing my way across America to California…I didn't send a letter for four months."

Jack sighed regretfully. A train chugged into the depot exhaustedly, tendrils of steam curling up from beneath, people streaming off the cars; before he spoke again.

"I shouldn't have handled it like that," Jack said slowly, "I told them I'd be back in three years, _tops_…and it's been nearly four and a half months more than that."

Rose waited a moment to see if there was more, but Jack remained silent.

"So you haven't seen any of them in that long?" she asked quietly after a moment.

"Nope, I sent some money back when I was trekking across the country to Philadelphia to get to Europe…and we tried sending letters. I got seven—don't know how many they did though. Enough, apparently, for them to tell me about Clara."

Jack took a deep breath and gave her a forced smile.

"See?" he said, dryly, "I told you it was fun story."

"Jack, I'm sorry…" Rose began

"Don't be," he said, cutting her off, "it all happened three years ago...shouldn't matter now, right?"

"Right…" Rose agreed slowly.

She scrutinized him for a moment. The way he was chewing on the inside of his jaw, the drumming of his fingers, the tapping of his foot, the constant checking the clock for the train. He was nervous about seeing his family again. And rightfully so it seemed. Rose reached out and put a hand on his opposite shoulder; the other reaching up to his face when he turned to her.

"It'll be fine," she assured him, looking him straight in the eyes. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before finally, desperately whispering,

"How can we possibly know?"

Rose, however, was mercifully saved from answering him when a sudden train whistle blew and the trip to Eau Claire finally arrived.

* * *

**Okay, so no kissing this time, sorry folks. :*  
How will Billy and Casper react to Jack and his new fiancee...? Discuss! ;)**


	15. Eau Claire

Happy Idiots

When Jack woke up that morning, it took him a few moments to remember where he was. Nowadays, it had gotten difficult to keep track.

Just twelve days ago, he'd been sleeping on a hard, narrow bunk bed on the "Ship of Dreams". And now, here he was, in a double bed; in Eau Claire, Wisconsin; only a few miles away from his home; with his arm wrapped around the waist of his new fiancée.

_What could be better? _he thought.

Jack smiled sleepily and glanced out the window of their little room at the inn. The sun had obviously come up a while ago, and he grudgingly decided that they'd slept in long enough and it was about time they were on their way.

"Rose," Jack said, gently shaking the sleeping figure. "Rose, come on, it's time to wake up…" After a moment, she groaned and rolled over to glare at him; still blinking against the sunlight.

"...Fifteen more minutes?" she pleaded.

"In fifteen minutes, you'll be sound asleep again and we'll just have to start this whole process over again."

Rose pursed her lips,

"How about a compromise...?" she started.

"_Oh_, no you don't," Jack interrupted, "I figured this out in Chicago; you have some _very_ one-sided compromises up your sleeves." Rose didn't bother denying the claim and smirked at him.

"Hmph. I _was_ going to suggest that you wake me up slowly…." she said, dramatically batting her eyelashes at him. Jack raised his eyebrows.

"In that case…it's different," he said. She smiled coyly and turned her back to him.

"Now try it again."

Jack grinned and put a hand on her arm, where he pulled her sleeve down enough to show her bare shoulder.

"Rose," he called softly, before gently kissing her shoulder. "Rose, come on, it's time to get up now." He drew his lips up her neck and kissed her again behind the ear.

"Good morning. Rose…?"

She then stretched and yawned as though it was the first time she was waking up, and turned back over. Rose nuzzled her face into his chest before slowly blinking "awake". She looked up at him blearily, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.

"G' morning," she said quietly.

"Good morning," he agreed. She rubbed her face against his chest and he instinctively put his arms around her again. Jack kissed the top her head and she hummed.

"So what's the plan for today?" she said in a muffled voice.

"Well…" Jack began, trying to gather his thoughts, "we'll need to ask around to see if anyone is going in to Chippewa—there usually is—but once we get there, we'll probably have to walk the two miles out to the farm"

"Do you think we could catch someone going in that direction?"

"Possibly. The entire town is surrounded by farms…we bring produce in, they take it to Eau Claire, and it goes on a train to Milwaukee. Dawson Farm is close to a couple of the others so someone could be heading that way…Once we get there, we'll just have to see…" he said, trailing off.

Rose could tell that Jack was thinking about the approaching reunion with his family and she slid her hand around his neck. He looked down at her and smiled, albeit a little nervously.

"It will be fine," she stated, "They love you…How could they not?"

"I know…" he started. "But it's just that—"

"…And Jack?"

"What?"

She looked him firmly in the eye.

"_I_ love you." The warmth melted back into his eyes and he touched his forehead against hers.

"I love you too." he whispered. A moment passed before,

"Rose?"

"Hm?"

"You still have to get up."

"Jack…! Fifteen more minutes?"

"Fine, _fifteen_ more minutes."

An hour and a half later, Jack and Rose were finally heading out of the inn at Eau Claire. They were wearing the clothes they had gotten in Chicago, bought with money that Jack had earned over the three days from doing portraits. It was cold that morning, even at eleven o'clock, and the sun had yet to burn through the layer of dew on the grass. Rose put her old coat on.

Jack and Rose entered the dark tavern ("That's where they'll know about anybody heading for home,") which doubled as restaurant during the day. Almost immediately, the few people inside went silent. Though it was gloomy in the pub, the quiet made it obvious that every eye was trained on the couple at the door. Rose glanced at Jack for explanation but he looked just as confused. Slowly, a single silhouette rose from its place at the bar.

"Well I'll be," it said, and suddenly launched itself forwards at Jack. Jack stumbled back in surprise but the man had already thrown his arms around his neck, thumped him on the back good-naturedly, and hollered,

"You sonuvabitch, Jack Dawson; where've ya been!?"

_Twenty digi-points each go to YourBestFriendK, LoveJoyPeace, adawg, SurferGirl3000, OnyxEmerald, mrs. peeta mellark 2.0, lovepeace, ticklethebeast (haha, love the name), Lady Elena Dawson (as always…and your impatience is noted…believe me—I'm trying), jackdawson-love, Jess, and all the Guests (I'm sorry dearies but I just don't know your names)._

_By the way, check out some of my other stories! _

_TTFN (Ta-ta fer now)_

_~FND~_


	16. Dawson Farm

Happy Idiots

Jack squinted at the man disbelievingly. It couldn't be…!

"Caleb!?" he shouted, grasping the man's forearms. Caleb smiled and wrapped him up in another bear hug.

"You sonuvabitch!" he shouted again, "What's so great "across the pond" that we don't 've here, huh?! What took you so long!" He laughed and didn't wait for a response. "Why haven't you come by? How 'long have you been in town?"

"Hang on," Jack cried, "I haven't been in Wisconsin a day yet and I'm already being accused of not coming to the Tharrington Place!?" Caleb's jaw dropped.

"You mean you haven't even been to your _home_ yet?" he asked, astounded. Jack shook his head. "Do they even know you're _here_!?"

"Hopefully they will by this evening."

"Haha!" Caleb shouted, "You mean I'm the first person to see you!? Oh that's a great, and I can tell people that I saw you first!...Come on in, I'll buy you a drink: you tell me about all your adventures in Europe and I'll take you out to the farm. Deal?" Again not waiting for a response, Caleb began to pull Jack into the resturant. But first, Jack turned back to Rose who had been watching the whole exchange with a look of wild amusement on her face. Jack winked at her.

"Watch this reaction," he whispered. She grinned.

"Hey Caleb," Jack said, "You'll have to get _three_ drinks if you don't mind…there're three of us, y'see." Caleb whipped around.

"What'd'ya mean?" He asked, obviously confused.

"I mean," said Jack, allowing himself to be tugged through the doorway and let Rose to come in, "My fiancée may want something too." Caleb noticed Rose for the first time and smiled politely.

"Oh," he said, "Well how do you…wait a second _your fiancée!_" He leapt into the air again.

"Jack…you didn't…you mean you met a girl…!?" he cried. Caleb threw his arms around Jack again before turning to Rose, still laughing. He grabbed her hand and shook it firmly.

"How'd'yado?" he said all in one breath, "I'm sorry, you must think I'm crazy, don't you? Didn't mean to be rude, I just didn't see you there, and you and Jack—_you and Jack_—I'd have _never_ thought—not that he isn't a great guy—helluva guy in fact, oh shit, sorry miss, didn't mean to swear like that...I'm usually not this annoying I swear." He laughed and kept wringing her hand.

"So when did this happen, huh? Are you from Europe?" Caleb paused suddenly and turned to Jack.

"She does speak English right? 'Cause here I've been talking and she—" Jack and Rose broke into peals of laughter. Caleb blushed.

"Right, English…got it," he muttered.

"My name's Rose," she told him, smiling.

"Pleasure," Caleb said, "I'm Caleb Tharrington…Jack and I grew up together; I live about fifteen miles away from the Dawsons. I came to work for his father during the summers, still do actually."

"How's he doing?" Jack asked, failing to keep the nervous edge out of his voice.

"Your father's doing great, so's your mother...Rest of 'em are fine—I stop in sometimes."

"…To get a free meal?"

"No, jerk, to make sure all's well," Caleb said affectionately, "But when did this," he indicated Jack and Rose, "when did you two happen?"

"Er," said Rose, "I don't know Jack, was it…" she turned to him, "…_twelve_ days ago?"

He nodded. "That sounds about right." They looked back to Caleb, smiling innocently. He regarded them carefully.

"You _are_ kidding, right?" he said slowly. Jack pressed his lips into a thin, cleanhanded smile. Caleb slowly nodded.

"Of _course_," he groaned, "you _would_ get engaged after twelve days, of all people…'Course, I take it there's a good story behind it...?"

"Oh," said Rose, "there's a _helluva_ story behind it."

"…And we'll tell it if you give us a ride home." Jack finished.

"It's a deal," Caleb laughed. He pushed past them outside and sauntered over to an ancient horse hitched to a wagon. Rose pulled herself up in the back without help from either man.

"I like her," said Caleb, grinning as he and Jack got in the front of the buggy.

"Glad you approve," Jack replied sarcastically, "that was all I was waiting on." Caleb ignored this, flicked the reigns once, and the old horse plodded forward.

"Alright then," said Caleb, speaking over his shoulder to Rose, "so do I want to hear about Jack's time gallivanting all over Europe or the way you two got engaged after twelve days?" Rose pulled herself up on her knees to be between the men.

"Technically," she said in a crisp voice, "it was _five_ days."

"_Five!?"_ Caleb hooted, "I change my mind, I want to hear _your_ story!"

"Well…" Jack began, "I s'pose you've heard of the _Titanic..._?"

* * *

Two hours later, after passing through "main street" (a few shops around a dirt road) of Chippewa Falls, they trio had entered into rolling farm country. Jack and Rose had told an increasingly incredulous Caleb about first Rose's problem with her mother and fiancé, she and Jack's budding, forbidden love affair on board, and then all the way up to the sinking. Rose found it hard to go into detail at that point and Jack took over, skating over the final moments of the Ship of Dreams in a couple sentences. Rose, in turn, told the story about after they reached the _Carpathia_, and they ended on their trek across America to reach Eau Claire.

After the couple had finished; Caleb sat staring at them, his jaw slightly slacked.

"You don't believe us do you?" Jack asked him, grinning.

"Oh no, I believe you," said Caleb, nodding dramatically, "That's not the kind of story you can just make up."

They laughed as Caleb shook his head in wonder. Suddenly, he shot up.

"You say this is all true…let's see the missing toes!" He looked like an eager little boy and Jack chuckled as he tugged his boot off followed by the sock.

"There you are," he said proudly, revealing the wound. Caleb's jaw dropped in awe. Jack added triumphantly, "'Better than the one you got from that copperhead when we were twelve, huh?"

Caleb sat bolt upright.

"That was awesome!" he cried, "I could have _died!_"

"I still don't think it was a real copperhead…"

"You _know_ it was! Don't you even dare trying to deny…"

"_Boys!_" Rose interrupted, "Talk about this later, _please_?" Caleb and Jack laughed.

"Sorry Rose," said Caleb. He looked back down at Jack's foot where the skin was starting to regrow over the missing digits.

"And to think you couldn't've been here…" Jack heard him mutter. They rode in a heavy silence for a few moments. It was a while before Jack suddenly stood straight up in his seat.

"This is it!" he cried pointing to the orchard on their left. Rose turned sharply to look. A low stone wall on the side of the road divided the shoulder from the rows of gorgeous, blooming trees, each one bright with flowers. They had been passing areas of produce like these, first a section of vineyards, then a vegetable patch, rows and rows of wheat, and now orchards, each of them divided from the road by a different wall.

"Are you sure?" Rose asked Jack as Caleb grabbed his friend's shirt and yanked him back down onto the seat.

"Yeah, he's sure," said Caleb huffily, "even if he's got to upsett the whole buggy to check."

Jack was unfazed.

"There's orchards on both sides of the entrance," he explained excitedly to Rose, "we go up the road between them and reach the farmhouse. Behind that is the fields and then way in the back is the lake I told you about…Oh look, there're the oak trees!"

They had just crested a hill and two, utterly massive white oaks were standing like sentinels beside another dirt road branching away from the one they were on. A sign was planted firmly in the ground next to the entrance; old and faded but still legible: _Dawson Farm_.

"You want me to let you off here?" Caleb asked finally, breaking the silence. Jack nodded numbly. He slowly got out of the buggy and shuffled around to the back to help Rose down. He led her over to the middle of the road where they could stare up the path towards the Dawson home.

"I'll, uh, see you later then, Jack," said Caleb, sensing the gravity of the moment, "...Let your family see you first, eh? They'll be excited."

"You think so?" Jack said breathlessly, whirling around to face his friend. Caleb nodded solemnly.

"You're needed there…and I think they know it too." With that, Caleb flicked the reigns once again and the old horse started lumbering forwards.

"Thanks Caleb!" Rose shouted as cheerfully as she could as the man began to descend the hill.

"You're welcome!" He called back, "It was nice meeting you, Rose!"

Rose watched as horse, buggy, and human disappeared from sight. Beyond the dip of the hill, the countryside was splayed out before her, fields and orchards in full bloom, little spots of blue water peeking out from the green backdrop here and there, small, white homes sitting like pristine little pearls, smoke lazily curling up from their chimneys, and all of it beneath the bluest, clearest sky.

It was surely the most beautiful thing Rose had ever seen.

"Jack…?" she breathed, about to comment on the glorious sight when she realized he was no longer by her side. She spotted him standing in front of the _Dawson Farm_ sign and walked over cautiously to join him. She noted, with relief, that a far-away smile was on his face and turned to examine the sign. Upon closer look, she noticed the other names painted around the middle title. _William…Kate…William Jr…Casper…Isabelle…Jack… Emily…Joshua…Clara_. The Dawson family as it was meant to be. Rose took Jack's hand and he returned her grip.

"Come on," she whispered finally, turning him to look up the road to his home, "You heard Caleb…they're waiting for you, even if they don't know it yet."

**A/N: I think this was my favorite chapter yet...  
****Thank you to mrs. peeta mellark 2.0, YourBestFriendK, jackdawson-love, NarcoHoney, neverletgo, and Lovepeace. To further clarify for anyone concerned (cough*YourBestFriendK*cough) Jack and Rose shall not be splitting up, I assure. They will have lots of grandbabies and die in their bed within an hour of each other at the ripe old age of 92...  
****First of all, I am _so_ sorry that it took me so long to update, especially after that last really short chapter. School schedule is crazy. I maintain the matra, "Education is important; school, however, is another matter." –IForgetWhoSaidThatQuote :0  
****And second of all…there is no second of all. ;)  
****Reviews are ice cream by poolside with extract of delicious-sunshine-goodness on top! (with Jack swimming laps in the above-mentioned pool)**

**~FND**


	17. Emily Ever After

Happy Idiots

The dirt road ahead of them was guarded at the front by the two ancient oaks, and it was lined all the way up by blooming white-petaled fruit trees. It path rose up a small hill and dipped down just enough so that only the roof of Jack's home was visible from the main road. A weather vane was perched on top the house, spinning lazily in the breeze.

Jack stared grimly at the weather vane, and rubbed his palms on the sides of his pants.

_This is ridiculous_, he told himself, _I am not going to get _scared_ about seeing them_.

Determinedly, he began to march up the road, Rose staying silently by his side. He grabbed her hand and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Jack glanced at her and could tell that she was also anticipating this nervously. He hadn't thought that she might be anxious—but for all his carrying on how could she not be?

"We've got nothing to be worried about," he told her suddenly. They were cresting the hill and the row of windows on the top floor was visible. The whitewashed house with the shining, black shudders was still just as he remembered—spotlessly clean and well-kept.

"That's what I've been telling you," Rose said simply.

"No, no; I mean _you_'ve—" he was cut off mid-sentence by a large, dark shape launching itself out of the trees and on to his chest. Jack fell back with a muffled cry of surprise. Before Rose could react, the giant dog had pinned him to the ground and was happily licking his face.

"_Off_…" Jack gasped, laughing; trying to push the dog away, "_Get off…!_" He managed to sit up and scooted out from beneath the mongrel. The dog sat back on its haunches and panted happily at Jack as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"Friend of yours?" Rose asked him weakly, her heart still beating fast from the surprise. Jack huffed a laugh in response.

"Not sure," he said and squatted down to examine the dog. "Unless it's…_Charlie_?" The dog barked at him and shot to his feet to wag his tail. Jack nodded.

"That settles it I suppose…Rose this is Charlie; Charlie, Rose. One of Emily's earliest experiments in breeding."

"Pleased to meet him," Rose said. Charlie barked in agreement, bounded up towards the house, and turned around midway as if beckoning them to follow.

"Smart thing, isn't he?" Rose asked as they began to mount the steadily-steeper hill. Jack only nodded in reply.

"Is he—_oh_!" Rose cut off abruptly as they reached the top of the hill and looked steeply down onto the land laid out beneath them. The house was there—white, black, and flawless, the front porch looking freshly-swept and inviting. The kitchen was separated off to the right side of the home. Further right from the little kitchen was the vegetable garden, the two connected together by a cheerful, white picket fence. Amongst the herbs and veggies were a considerable amount of perennials, and butterflies fluttered lazily over the expanse of the garden. On the other side of the farmhouse was a fenced-in area where hens were pecking dully at the ground. Left of the hen yard was the barn and a corral was attached to the back of this. Beyond the line of facilities were several fields of corn, wheat, and shining, yellow sunflowers. At the very back of the property was the pond that Jack had spoken of—it even had a pier extending into the blue, blue water. Several dogs ran loose across the property and Rose more than a few cats sleeping in the warm, noontime sun.

"Jack…" she whispered finally, "it's…it's _beautiful_." She looked away from the fantastic view to her fiancé. She was even more comforted to see that a real, genuine smile was on his lips.

"Yes," he said quietly, "and it hasn't changed a bit…"

They watched the farm for a moment longer before Jack, surprisingly, took the first step forward. He grasped Rose's fingers and they descended the hill, hand-in-hand, with Charlie the Dog bounding on ahead of them.

It was just as Jack and Rose reached the bottom of the hill that a side door opened on the left of the house. Jack tensed.

"Chickens!" called a young female voice, "Yoo-hoo chickens! I have food for you guys. Hey, hey, hey there!" A blonde-haired girl came out (stumbling just once on her skirt) and let herself into the chicken yard. Jack's jaw dropped. This couldn't be…! This girl was far too tall, far too matured, far too pretty to be…

"Hello there chickens; you wouldn't be hungry, now would you?" the girl mimicked a chicken's cluck as she strode into the middle of the hen yard. The chickens flocked towards her.

"You are!?" she cried in mock-disbelief. The girl delved into the feed sack at her side and began tossing seed across the ground. Mumbling to herself she added, "…Might be because I waited till twelve o'clock to feed you but it's not like I get thanked anyway—" She spun around in the process of scattering and saw, for the first time, Jack and Rose standing awkwardly to the side. The change in her expression was instantaneous.

Her smile disappeared and her arms fell limply to her sides; the chickens entirely forgotten. Her large, blue eyes focused on Jack and grew round with disbelief. Emily; for this was surely who the girl was, despite the changes to her body and height; drifted across the ground out of the hen yard as if in a dream. About ten feet away from Jack and Rose, she stopped and simply stared at him as if not daring to believe her eyes. A long, pregnant pause followed.

"Hey Em," Jack said nervously. That broke the spell. Emily rushed forward at lightening speed toward Jack, and began hammering her fists into his chest the moment she could reach him.

"_You…complete…and total…__**ASSHOLE**__!_" she shrieked.

"Emily!" Jack started, obviously surprised, as he attempted to grab his sister's wrists. She struggled weakly against him as he pinned her arms in between them.

"How could you do that to me!?" her muffled yell sounded from his shirt. She wriggled until she could look up into his face.

"How could you…!" Their eyes met and her resolve crumbled. Emily reburied her face in Jack's chest and sobbed, her hands still weakly smacking the back of his neck. Jack rocked the girl back and forth and looked over her trembling head to Rose. His relieved smile was all she ever needed to know. This was a better welcome than he'd dared hope for.

From San Francisco to Philadelphia, USA; from Lisbon to Madrid, Spain; from Marseille to Paris, France; Rome to Venice, Italy; Vienna, Austria to Berlin, Germany; and finally Southampton, England; after nearly freezing to death on what would one-day become the most infamous shipwreck in history…Jack Dawson was home.

**A/N: I'm actually tempted to leave it here—I never had much of a plan for this story, it was mostly written because I wanted so badly for Jack to survive after watching the movie and didn't like any of the fanfics that I read about him living. (Of course I read like _two_ but since I'm so impatient I decided to spend many, many hours writing and revising this instead of keep searching for maybe half an hour…yeah) So should I have them regroup with the rest of the family or continue _Happy Idiots_ even more beyond that (if that is the demand then I must ask for some plot suggestions as well…) Discuss!**


	18. The Thing About Anxiety

Happy Idiots

Mother called her (as well as everybody else) a unique gift from God. Father called her his pretty little fireball. Jack, for one, called her a raging pistol. And Emily Dawson lived up to the last, most affectionate name the best.

She hadn't seen her favorite brother in over three years: nearly twenty-three percent of her lifetime (and you were damn straight she kept a running statistic). Before, she'd believed Jack would come home for her fourteenth birthday, it was only two and a half months before his three-year deadline after all, but she'd aged another year without her favorite person present.

_Fine!_ she thought. She would just wait and chew him out when he showed up in two months. But when Jack's presumed homecoming day came and went, Emily was, needless to say, very pissed. Even Mother had allowed her to be ornery for a week or so afterwards.

_Four_ months came and went, Emily's imagination being free to run wild in that time. There was an endless amount of things that could have happened to him. Maybe he'd been in a fight somewhere in Paris…

_Four drunken Frenchmen spilled onto the darkened streets after being kicked out a bar and their eyes instantly fell on a passing girl. One of them made a rude joke about the beautiful, young woman, and another one took it seriously. He stumbled across the street to her, his crazed friends following him in their eager, drunken madness. They surrounded and corralled her into an alley and the tallest man stepped forward towards the shaking, fearful girl. He began to pin her against the wall of a building when she managed a scream. He struck her across the face but already a shadow had crossed the alleyway. _

_"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" said a calm voice—Jack, her brother the Hero, coming to save the day. The four men turned around in a bored manner._

_"Mind your own business," a short one slurred in French. _(Emily didn't know any French but she knew that Jack, being the resourceful, smart person he was, would have learned it, so here in this story they all just spoke in a French accent_.)_

_"I'll mind mine, if you mind yours," said Jack stepping forward. The glare of the dirty streetlights was out of his face and they could see him now, calmly walking towards them. "Let the _'moiselle_ go," he said. The girl struggled now, her reason finally emerging against her fear, but the tallest man held her tight._

_"Do you _want_ trouble?" slurred the short one._

_"Not the point," said Jack briskly, "Does she? Do you? Go home to you beds and fall asleep before a problem starts…I pity the headache you'll have in the mornings." One of the Frenchmen nodded, the one who had originally made the joke. _

_"He is right," he said slowly as he grabbed the short one around the collar (_in Emily's mind, these two were brothers_) "Come." The fourth man began to follow the pair but the tall one grabbed his arm._

_"We will do as we please, American; go away or join us in our game," he sneered, "You don't want to fight against four of us."_

_"Four?" said Jack, bemusedly, "I see one man who wants to go home, drink some water, and go to bed; and I see another one who talks too much." _

_"Why you…!" said the tall one. He turned around but the brothers were gone. In the moment of distraction, the other one ran out the other end of the alley and Jack simply turned aside to let him pass._

_"Talk too much…eh?" said the last man finally, "Too much talk, not enough fighting for you…eh?" Without another word, he lunged at Jack and Jack, expecting this, easily dodged him. He locked eyes with the woman and jerked his head down the alley. With a parting, glowing look of gratitude, she raced out the end of the alley. But the second of hesitation, the assurance Jack had needed to make sure she was safe, cost him everything. The Frenchmen had pulled a knife from his coat and as he lunged at Jack again, thrust it deep into his stomach._

_Standing, the tall man brushed his hands off as Jack Dawson choked on his own blood. He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Jack to die slowly in the gutter…_

That was one possibility as to why he hadn't returned to her, Emily thought. Jack dying painfully in a filthy alleyway in Paris, being picked up and thrown in a pauper's grave the next morning, all because he had to be some Flower of Chivalry and save a poor girl. Of course, Jack was never very cautious…so maybe he wasn't showing up because of _this_ possibility…

_"Come on Jack!" said a mustached man in Spanish._ (Again, Emily didn't know any Spanish, and Jack had even said in a letter that he hadn't liked the Spanish cities or language as much as the other places. However, this still made a great story.)

_"No," replied Jack, laughing, in the same language, "Only drunkards and matadors get into a pit with a bull…not farmboys."_

_"Ah yes," said Mr. Mustache with equal good humor, "But I thought you were not a farmboy. A dreamer, yeah? An adventurer? You come for a fun life, for memories while you can make them. You live now, Jack; just try one pass, see how you like it, yeah?" _

_The two were sitting on the highest tier of the arena, looking down into the pit. There were currently no fights going on but the bulls' bellowing from their pens was audible; the crowd was quickly filling up the arena, a fight was going to be on soon. _

_Mr. Mustache was dressed nicely—white, billowy shirt; tight, black pants; a gold necklace; a red bandanna—the way Emily believed all wealthy Spanish people looked—and he had long, clean, dark hair. He owned this ring and Jack had set up an easel outside—that was how they had met. Now he had invited Jack up to the top tier—where only the rich sat in Emily's imagination—and they were drinking beer._

_A fight began with the sound of a trumpet blast and the crowd roared. As Jack looked away from him to the arena, Mr. Mustache nodded his head discreetly to the boy serving them. The boy nodded back, disappeared for a second, and returned, bringing them another round of drinks. Jack smiled at the boy and took his, draining half of it in one gulp._

_"What in this?" he asked bemusedly, staring into his mug, "'Tastes different…better." Mr. Mustache shrugged and gave a side-grin to the serving boy._

_"Drink up," he said simply, "_Nino,_ bring our friend another." Jack downed the rest of the beer and another one before the Mr. Mustache spoke again._

_"So," he said slowly, "Bull fighting. Still against it? Think of the glory Jack. The riches. The women. The good memories of it all. Want to try it out?" Jack smiled slowly._

_"Why not?" he said, "What's to lose?"_

_"Good boy!" cried the other man, clapping his hands together, "how about today? No time like today!" Jack agreed and Mr. Mustache had another serving boy lead him down to the stockades. _

_He grinned. His arena had been losing money—his matadors had all left him when he cut their pay and though he'd realized his mistake and promised a better salary, no one came to work for him. This American could last one round maybe, a few passes at least._ 'Besides,' _he thought as Jack entered the arena with a cape and the bull's cage door was lifted_, 'the people always liked to see blood.'

_The American lasted only one pass._

The next one had come to Emily entirely in a dream and she'd woken up, gasping, in a cold sweat. Staying quiet so she wouldn't wake Clara up (the smaller girl had left her cot in their parent's room to share with Emily a few weeks after Isabel left). Emily had gone to Joshua's (and Jack's old) bedroom and prodded her little brother awake to talk to him about the dream. Since Jack's departure, Josh had become her best friend. They had always been close, (only two years apart) and could talk to each other about anything, but it still wasn't quite the same...

_Jack was sitting on the rooftop of his apartment in Vienna in the bright early morning sunlight. He had his easel set up in front of him, and he was doing a large-scale sketch of the city's skyline. He was just working on the Ferris wheel that was __in the park a few blocks away__ (That had been in their latest letter—five months previous) when Jack smelled the smoke. However, he thought nothing of it and continued to draw. _There!_ There again—that was certainly smoke. Jack looked up, distracted, and he took in a good whiff. It was then that Jack heard the scream._

_Jack hurried over to the side of the building and looked down onto the courtyard below. A woman was pointing up at his building and screaming, her finger directed at a floor halfway up in the building. An alarm went off somewhere, people were pouring out of the building caught mid-way through various activities (one man was half-shaved, a little boy was wearing only his underclothes); and Jack could only stare. _

_The smoke wafted up toward and suddenly stung his eyes. Panicked now, Jack quickly got over his shock and turned to pack up his artwork. He just had to save that! The papers he stuffed into his portfolio, the pencil and eraser he clamped in his teeth and turned to run. There was no fire escape here—it wasn't like he could afford a nice place with so much as a fire escape and the other buildings were too short to cross over to like you could in some places of the city. He dashed down through the building and only realized the gravity of the situation once he was a floor down. The entire hallway was filled with smoke, families were calling out to each other, children were crying, people were rushing back into their rooms to get their things out. Jack was glad that he had all needed with him—his hard work and memories were kept in the pouch around his neck or the leather-bound notebook he always carried with him._

_Jack hurtled down two flights of stairs before he decided that there was definitely going to be a problem. The air was thick with smoke and he began to violently cough. Jack held his wrist up to his mouth and began breathing through the cotton fabric but he still choked on the air.  
Dozens of people were coming back up from the floor below, coughing and hacking with fear and their eyes. But Jack ignored their looks of desperation, ignored the panic gnawing at his stomach and went down to the next floor. _

_Here was the fire then. Here was the inferno that Jack knew in an instant the fire brigade would not be able to put out before it had devoured the building. Which left him one other option: running through it. _

_Jack took in a lungful of the air despite its smokiness because he knew it would only get worse. Head down, wrist to mouth, his precious drawings clutched close to his chest, Jack sprinted down the fiery hallway. His clothes were catching fire, but he did not turn back. His lungs were exploding for clean air, but he did not breathe. His skin was beginning to burn, but he was so close, _so close, _a few more steps and…_

_**Wham**_!

_Jack tripped over a fallen beam and he sprawled across the floor. The jolt knocked the wind out of him and in the shock of it he tried to suck in more air. Instantly, Jack doubled over from coughing, unable to move as the flames spread up his body. It was then that Emily's point of view in the dream switched from Jack's to a third person and she could only watch as her brother was devoured by the flames…_

That—only one month after Jack was supposed to return—was the last straw. Emily forced herself to put her brother in the back of her mind because if she had another dream like that she knew she would die. In every fantasy, Emily knew that Jack was trying to come back, albeit eventually, so that he could see her again. They were a package deal, always had been, always would be. On his next trip, she would be old enough and they would be striking off into the world: together again.

So when Jack showed up four and a half months after he was supposed to with some pale, redhead woman on his arm claiming they had known each other for twelve days and were now engaged, Emily Grace Dawson was less than impressed. In fact, she became more than a raging pistol. In fact, she became very, _very_ angry; and very, _very_ jealous.

**A/N: Dun, dun, dun….**

**This is the beginning of Part II...****Okay, I started with the idea about Emily's imaginings and then I just ran with it and pretty soon it got _way_ longer than I expected. So I know this chapter is totally random and not at all what anybody (including me) was expecting but I thought it was alright. **

**But next chapter I _promise_ to pick right back up with the reunion scene (I guess this should have been an isolated one-shot but outside of this little OC Titanic world it wouldn't make much sense…) **

**_Thank you_ all so much for bugging me about writing the rest of this. Here's the general plan: I think I'll go all the way through to their wedding (end of part II) and then write isolated one-shots about Jack and Rose's life together afterward (part III). What do ya think 'bout that?**

**Please leave a review, I love them (and the reviewees) so much!**


	19. This is Rose and This is Not Okay

**A/N: Me? Gone for a month? Psh.**

Happy Idiots

"I'm sorry Emily," Jack murmured as he held his trembling sister, "I really, _really_ am. I should have been here sooner. I really meant to be here sooner…it's just that there are a lot of delays between Vienna and Southampton." The last part was supposed to be a joke but Emily pulled back and gaped at him, as if shocked that such an excuse could ever be considered valid.

"Delays?" she said, her voice squeaky with anger, "_Delays_? So you adjust for the delays then, Jack! Just where the _hell_ have you been for the past five months!?" Jack itched to tease her that he would tell Mother she'd been swearing, but by the way her bottom lip was quivering; this seemed like a dangerous notion for his personal safety.

"Honestly? I was all over the place," he said earnestly instead, "I've got great stories for you though…"

"I don't want stories!" she interrupted, furious, "I want my big brother!" Jack opened his mouth to respond before she cut him off again,

"You know Bill and Casper hardly count, don't bother with making that excuse!"

And Jack, for nothing close to the first time, didn't have an argument for her. He could only shrug apologetically.

_You're right_, said his body language, _you win…I'm sorry but there aren't any more words to convey that…so can we move on?_

Emily eyed him suspiciously in the silent argument as if judging whether or not to trust him. Finally, she decided on rolling her eyes and glared at Jack.

"Fine," she muttered darkly, "…But you better have some _really_ great stories." Jack grinned and wrapped her up in a proper hug. Emily, unable to help herself, laughed out loud. It felt so good to have him back where she could keep an eye on him.

"Seriously though," she said, mustering her best glare when he had let go of her, "Where'd you go? What's happened to you? Who'd you meet?" Jack automatically glanced over his shoulder at Rose. Emily followed his gaze and noticed the other woman for the first time. Her smile, a second ago, so joyful and relieved, flickered.

"Um?" she asked Jack, looking pointedly at Rose. Jack took Rose's hand and opened his mouth to say…well, how _should_ he go about this?

Understanding, however, dawned in Emily's face and her smile stopped reaching her eyes, looking very false indeed.

"Oh," she stiffly, her eyebrows rising, "So…_that's_ what took five months."

It took Jack a moment to realize what she meant and he instantly started backtracking.

"No, no," he said quickly, "The five months: those were my fault. All mine, Em. We met, well….it was actually twelve days ago, but that'll all make sense when I get to that story. But either way, Emily, this—" Jack glanced at Rose, who offered another encouarging smile, "This is Rose; Rose, this is Emily."

Rose put her hand out and smiled cheerily. Emily shook it, but her expression was still carefully guarded. She glanced at Jack with the final question in her eyes and he clarified.

"We're engaged," Jack said, smiling nervously at the pair of them. He suddenly had the distinct feeling he'd just pulled the plug on a bomb and it was about to go off. But Emily surprised him and threw her arms up.

"Why didn't you just say so?!" she cried happily and reached to give Rose a congratulating hug. Jack let out a sigh of relief.

_Phew_, he'd almost thought that Emily was about to shift into being a protective pain in the…and then he saw the look his sister was giving him over Rose's shoulder.

She was glaring at him.

Intensely.

"We need to talk," she mouthed, her angry, blue eyes saying more though; something along the lines of: "_This is **not **okay!" _Jack had to suppress a groan of anguish.

So much for first impressions.

* * *

Emily released Rose and turned back to Jack. He was relieved to see she was at least _trying_ to act pleased. (The two of them, Jack and Emily, had often played cards late at night when Mother wouldn't find them. She'd become surprisingly good and cleaned him out more times than he cared to admit. Emily might not have liked Rose—or any of the girls Jack had so much as ever spoken to for that matter—but she'd keep her poker face until she'd at least argued with him. Which meant that, for the moment at least, Emily, Psychotically-Protective-Little-Sister, wasn't making an appearance.)

"Come one," she cried turning back to Jack and tugging at his hand. "You've got to see Mother!" She froze, a mischievous grin playing with the corners of her mouth. Jack knew that smile and started talking before she could open her mouth.

"I am _not_ going to walk in there and scare her," Jack said quickly, "Can't make me."

Emily's face fell.

"Please Jack," she said; holding her hands under her chin like a prayer, "You don't have to _scare_ her, not really. Just scratch on the wall, she'll think it's a mouse, come around the corner, and, _ta-da!_, there's Jack! It'd be priceless!"

Jack sighed and looked at Rose. She was glancing between him and Emily as if not sure whether or not they were kidding. He shrugged at them both and started for the house.

"I'll surprise her in my own way, thank you very much Emily," he called over his shoulder. She ran to catch up with him.

"How?" she muttered to him, "By telling her you're engaged to Ms. Hoity-Toity-Red-Hair-Lady?" Jack glared at her and turned to make sure Rose hadn't heard. Rose took it as an invitation to speed up and hurried forward to catch them. Jack turned back to his sister.

"One more word, Em," he hissed, "You haven't even met her but if you so much as say one more…"

"Her hands aren't even calloused, Jack," Emily interrupted, equally vehement, "She's all white and soft like a baby. Just where did you find…" He silenced her with a hard nudge as Rose joined them.

They reached the front porch, Jack between the others, (was it just him, or was the tension in the air palpable?) and reached for the rope pull. Emily watched him, her arms crossed and an expectant smirk on her face.

He rang the bell. They waited for a moment. Jack rang it again and swallowed. Who was going to answer…?

"Coming," called a voice from somewhere in the house. There was a creak, a soft grunt, a shuffle of cloth, and the door latch clicked as it opened. A woman was standing there, her face more lined than Jack had ever thought it could be. Her back was stooped, and what had once been thick, beautiful brown, albeit slightly silvered hair, was now plaited in a long, stone gray braid. But her blue eyes were twinkling just the same as always and the long, modestly-cut dress was one that he easily recognized. The woman's eyes widened and her lips curled into an astonished smile.

"God be praised," she whispered, "Jonathon…I knew it would happen." She threw her arms around Jack's neck.

"Hello Mother," Jack murmured.

**A/N: I do have a lot of excuses *ahem* explanations for taking so long, all of them valid but no one really cares. I _would_ say that I'll churn out a longer chapter soon but I already know that I'm celebrating thanksgiving tomorrow and that, amazingly, the next five weekends will magically fill up too, so...who knows? I promise though, I do try to write and it drives me nuts when I can't. I did a new one-shot for psych and a final chapter for my starwars fic (please check them out, they're good) so that took some time over the month but now I can reconcentrate on this. Enough of me then. Happy fanficing.**


	20. The Prodigal Son

Happy Idiots

"Jack," she cried, "Oh Jack! I just knew it! I knew it the whole time!" Kate Dawson pulled away and examined her son with shining eyes. She then noticed Emily standing behind him and a slight smirk appeared on her face.

"Told you, didn't I?" Kate said, "But _some_one never did believe me." Emily blushed to the tips of her ears.

"'Young people only believe in themselves and never their elders,'" Jack replied, quoting his mother from some long-ago day. She laughed again and looked him over.

"You haven't been eating well," she announced, her lips pursed. "Was paper and charcoal more important than food?"

Jack shrugged. "'Feed the health or feed the heart?' You know which one I'll always choose Mother."

Kate shook her head. "My crazy, crazy boy…" she muttered, lifting her eyes heavenward. When she directed her gaze back to Jack, he guiltily noticed how overbright it was.

"Come in," she said, and her voice didn't betray the tears in her eyes, "I'll put another plate out,…oh, you'll have _so_ much to tell—"

"Actually Mother, you'll need to—" Jack began.

"…Put out _two_ more plates," Emily interrupted. Jack shot a glare over his shoulder but she only returned an innocent smile.

"We've got another person over," Emily said. Kate cocked her head and came out onto the porch.

"Who…?" She began to ask and then Rose stepped into her view. It took a Kate only a moment to take in the young woman with the flushed cheeks, twisting hands, and furtive glance to her son; the matching grins on their faces.

"Oh…!" she said, looking again between Rose and Jack, wonderment growing in her eyes, "You couldn't be…?"

"Engaged!" Emily blurted.

Jack closed his eyes. As much as he had missed the girl, he'd forgotten how much she made him want to wring her neck. Rose glanced back at Emily, her brow slightly furrowed in bewilderment.

"_Something's off about her_," a little voice was saying in the back of her mind. "_She doesn't like you…_" But Rose didn't have a second to dwell on this as Kate rushed forwards and wrapped Rose up in the same hug she'd welcomed her son with.

"Oh I'm so happy for you!" she cried. "You'll have to tell us all about where you met, when, how; and oh listen to me! I don't even know what your name is!"

She pulled away and held Rose at arms' length, both women now beaming.

"Rose," she replied. "…Just Rose." If Kate was surprised at the withholding the last name, she didn't show it.

"Well then, Just Rose," she said, "We would be _delighted_ if you would join us for dinner. (Kate, unlike Jack, missed the look of annoyed disappointment on Emily's face.) The rest of the mensfolk should be coming along soon and everyone will be able to meet you. Oh, you two are going to have such a story, I can just tell! (Rose couldn't help but notice how Jack's jaw clenched at the mention of "the rest of the mensfolk," and she shot him what she hoped was a reassuring look. Jack returned a strained smile.)

Kate bustled Rose inside, took her coat, ("Goodness gracious, dear, that's heavy! What have you got in those pockets?" "I haven't the faintest idea. I've been too busy to even go through my own coat lately.") and led her into the living space, both chuckling. Jack followed behind them, smiling with relief at how _those_ two at least seemed to be getting along. His smile grew with appreciation as he realized how little his home had changed. Casper's wood carvings were still on the mantle, seven-year-old Emily's failed attempt at a cross-stitch pillow was still in Dad's chair, the clumsy, green"1st Cor.15: V. 51-57" only slightly more faded than he remembered it. He realized with a shock of recognition that it was _his_ drawings that adorned the walls. And some of his earliest, sloppiest ones at that!

"Are all these Jack's?" he heard Rose ask. He started to answer her when he realized she had addressed his mother.

"Oh yes…Jack, you were eleven when you did that one, weren't you?"

"Yes'm."

Rose looked up from the sketch of Blue, an old hound of his father's.

"You didn't tell me you'd been this good since you were a child," she said.

Jack only shrugged: a modest gesture that cancelled out with the way he was smirking at the ground. Rose noticed how the expression made it clear he was proud of himself but didn't want to come across that way.

"Emily, what happened to those eggs I needed?" Kate asked from the kitchen.

"Remembered I was here, did you?" Jack heard her grumble before she let herself out. He felt a little guilty at that and was about to go after her and explain everything but decided that he owed her a genuine discussion rather than a quick apology. After all, he wasn't being entirely fair; Emily was understandably mad and wanted to let that out on somebody. There was a comfortable silence before Kate asked,

"Jack, where's your Beloved Portfolio? Won't you have lots to show us from your trip?"

Jack pressed his lips into a line.

"Well that's part of the story, see? It didn't quite make…"

At that moment the back door slammed open.

"That was fast Emily. Are you sure you got them all?" Kate asked.

However, it was not Emily who came around the corner.

"Say," said a sardonic voice, "Look at this Bill. The prodigal son has returned to us."

Bill's face appeared over Casper's shoulder, their expressions the same mixture of surprise and mistrust. Jack's mouth twitched up in a half-smile. Rose watched the three of them stare at each other, the awkwardness mounting as obviously neither of them knew what to do. Her eyes went to Kate who had stopped what she was doing to watch. Despite the way she had made this meeting sound exciting, she too had evidently known it would be difficult. Rose's heart went out to the older woman as she saw Kate's lips tremble. All she wanted was to have her family together.

The silence was finally broken when Bill said,

"Well, I'll get the fattened calf ready..." He paused as if deciding whether or not that was sufficient for greeting; evidently it wasn't because he grudgingly added, "It's good you're back Jackie."

_A/N: You people have every right to hate me. I will not deny that. I apologize for the inexcusably long update but I know that doesn't cover it. However, exams are over and there will be another update before Christmas break is over. I'm 47% sure…_

_Despite my horribleness about updating, I want to thank ALL THE REVIEWERS because life has gotten beyond stressful recently and even when I wasn't updating, people were reviewing and PMing me. You guys are keeping my life going. Hugs and kisses to kateandleogottalovethem, filledeneige, YourBestFriendK, alice-in-wonderland-22, mrs peeta mellark 2.0, jackdawson-love, cheernerd7, GAKUENALICEROCKS, and of course, Lady Elena Dawson. Darling, thank you **so much** for helping me through writer's block. You're a story-saver!_

_Hope everything's going great with y'all,  
__FND_

_P.S. Yes, Jack's parents are William and Kate; no, I didn't realize that when I wrote the a few chapters ago, so now I'll just stick with it. _

_Reviews are…eh, I got no cute metaphor. Reviews are freakin' awesome! There, that should do it!_


	21. Head Dawson

_**A/N:**__ In response to a review: Kate and William are the parents, Bill and Casper the older brothers, then Jack, then Emily, then Joshua. Isabelle was twins with Casper, but she's left the family, Clara was the youngest child but she died while Jack was away. Also, Bill and Casper are the type to keep grudges. They have never liked Jack, and the way they see things is that he left the family on bad terms and has been having a ball in Europe while they're struggling at home. So it may take a while for them to welcome Jack back..._

Happy Idiots

"Now Bill, sarcasm is _no_ way to greet…!" Kate began to say when the door opening and shutting again interrupted her.

"What's that about fattened calves?" called a young boy's voice, "'Cause I'm starving!"

"Relax Joshua," said a much deeper one, "You'll eat what your mother has—" Two people entered the room, one a young, teenaged boy with fair hair and sunburned cheeks, the other an older, dark-haired man whose skin was weather-roughed and tan. Rose noticed that the second carried himself the same way a young man would, despite his age, with his broad shoulders back and his chest out. It was he who abruptly stopped speaking when he came in to view. Despite the hair color and build of this man, Rose knew he was, without a doubt, Jack's father.

There was silence in the room again. Then,

"Hey, it's _you_!" Joshua cried, racing forwards to Jack, "You've been gone for _ages_!" He almost looked like he was going to leap up and throw his arms around Jack when he stopped just short of him. Rose remembered that this boy had been only nine years old when Jack left. Old enough to remember, but too young to understand him. The poor boy couldn't know how to address his own brother.

Joshua gave a faltering smile and then put his hand out for a greeting. Jack looked down at the hand once in something like disbelief, took it, and pulled the boy into a warm embrace. The look of alarm on the younger one's face was almost instantly curled into a smile.

Rose heard Kate trying not to sniffle too loudly.

"Jack…?" This was directed from William Dawson, now approaching, his brow furrowed, his eyes searching Jack's face.

"Yes sir?" Jack replied evenly. He gave Joshua a final squeeze and stood up straighter to meet his father's scrutinizing gaze. Joshua noticed the sudden increase in the tension and slunk to where his mother was standing while no one was paying him any attention. As he passed Rose, one eyebrow quirked and he opened his mouth to speak, but then seemed to think better of it and continued to his mother.

_The youngest one has the most tact, _Rose thought, filing away that bit of information about the smallest Dawson boy. She noticed Kate holding her hand over her mouth, her eyes overbright again as she watched Jack and William. Apparently, so did Joshua. He reached for her free hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

_Insightful too,_ thought Rose, _Especially so for a twelve year old_. But she quickly turned her attention back to the center of the room.

"…Am I dreaming?" William was saying.

Jack swallowed.

"No sir."

The father reached his son and put his hands on Jack's shoulders. All of a sudden, William gave Jack a hard jerk.

"_What were you thinking!?_" he cried, his voice thick with emotion. "Do you know what it was like: coming home to find out that one of my children had run off to _California!_? Do you have," he gave Jack another shake, "_any_ idea!?"

"William!" Kate cried, darting forward, but Joshua pulled on her hand and shook his head.

Jack gulped harder.

"I…"

"Not only that, but when you were on your merry way to New England and the _across the damn ocean_, you didn't think to stop by on the way? To let us know how you were doing? Let us see you? Could you not have at least spent a week here at _home_!?"

William's voice was beginning to crack with his composure. His bottom jaw trembled as he went on. It was easy to see that he wasn't angry so much at Jack's actions, but his supposed disregard for his family.

Jack, for his part, looked positively horrified. Clearly, he was unaccustomed to seeing his father as a wreck like this.

"Good Lord, son, how was I—how was _anyone_—supposed to handle that?" William asked. Jack's eyes were wide and his voice unsteady as he tried to answer.

"Sir…I thought …you didn't need…" He licked his lips uncertainly.

"Thought I didn't need _what_?" William asked; his voice suddenly low.

Jack faltered an uncertain smile.

"_Me_," he muttered. "Let's face it; I'm not a whole lot of help around the farm..."

"Are you _crazy!?_" William interrupted, "When have we _ever_ led you to think that your worth was as a _farmhand_?!" His blue eyes were entreating Jack; knowing at heart, but suddenly hoping, that he hadn't let his son believe his use determined his self-worth.

"No sir, you never…" Jack backpedaled. William looked slightly relieved before he plunged on.

"Your mother and I _have_ always; _will_ always love you," he said, "…Even if you go to Paris to be an artist."

"…And even if you don't let us know that those are your plans beforehand," Kate added, "It stays just the same."

Jack swallowed again. Nothing broke the pained silence.

"Sir…I am so, _so_ sorry," he began, "I shouldn't have—"

William, his hands still gripping Jack's shoulders, pulled him into a hug. Jack was effectively silenced as he locked his father in the same embrace.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw Joshua give Kate his handkerchief when her sniffling became uncontrollable.

"But Jack," William said after a moment, releasing Jack a little bit, "If you call me 'sir,' like I'm your jail warden one more time…"

Jack looked up into his father's face, a grin dancing in his eyes.

"Alright, Dad."

_**A/N:**__ What do we think of Josh? William? Bueller? Reviews are __**really easy**__ for you to do—thirty seconds to write ONE, SHORT review is all I ask!_

_Special hugs and kisses to _Marigold_ for hers! Thank you so much darling, you are the __sweetest__. _

_I've learned an important lesson from writing this: Always draft an outline before you start writing, and always write ahead before you start publishing. I'm very sorry you guys had to be my guinea pigs._


	22. Sir's Approval

Happy Idiots

_"But Jack," William said after a moment, releasing his son a little bit, "If you call me 'sir,' like I'm your jail warden one more time…"_

_ Jack looked up into his father's face, a grin dancing in his eyes._

_ "Sure thing, Dad." _

William breathed a sigh of relief and the pain vanished from his face. Almost instantly, the years seemed to roll off his shoulders and he had a sparkle in his eyes that Rose could easily identify; it made the resemblance between William and her fiancé ten times more distinct.

William gave Jack a final, back-cracking hug that seemed much more familiar and much more fitting, before ultimately releasing him and holding him at arm's length; both father and son had matching, happy, idiotic grins on their faces.

"…Whatever it was that made you stay away so long," William said slowly, "I want to hear about it…because it had best be good. _Very_ good."

"I've got a hundred good ones, Dad, and I'll tell you all about them soon enough," Jack gushed, "But there's just a much better one in the wings…" As he was talking, he had backed up and circled his arm around Rose's shoulders. William's eyes lit up as he finally noticed the new, redheaded woman standing in his living room, but then clouded back over in confusion.

"Rose," Jack said, gently drawing her forward to William, "This is my father. Dad…this is Rose."

"It's wonderful to finally meet you," Rose said warmly. They extended hands and shook and though William was perfectly pleasant it was obvious he still didn't understand what the significance was here. Jack watched his father's face for a moment but realizations didn't seem forthcoming.

"Dad…" he said slowly, "Rose…is the woman I want to marry…I love her."

Silence, for what felt like the twentieth time in that hour alone, reigned in the house.

But the delayed reaction did come.

William's jaw went slack and he stared from Jack to Rose and back again. And then, slowly, he began to smile, wider and wider, before starting to laugh, loud, booming, and merry. He hooked his arm around Jack's neck and poked him in the chest.

"_This_ boy?" he asked Rose, poking Jack, who was also starting to laugh, again. "You want to marry _this_ one?"

Rose began to grin with them, too.

"Yes sir, I'd planned to," she said.

William shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You too, eh?" he chuckled wearily; "_Please_ don't call me sir. It's William, and I won't answer otherwise."

"Yes s—" Rose began to say before catching herself. "Sure thing." She replied

"That's better," William said, laughing merrily again.

"Now William," Kate said, "Don't start messing with the poor girl before she's even met everybody!"

"Of course not," William replied, "But it's still my turn with her, and you used yours up already!" He turned back to the engaged pair.

"So you really do love each other?" he asked, needing that extra, exciting assurance.

Rose locked eyes with Jack and he winked at her.

"Positive," Jack promised, his voice low. "I know I'm not letting go." Rose pursed her lips at him in amusement

"Positive," she repeated, looking into his eyes for a moment too long.

William's eyebrows raised for a second, making Rose blush and she and Jack dropped the shared look. But William went on like he hadn't noticed the private moment. He pulled Jack in closer for a hug and held his other arm out to Rose.

"Well come here," he said, "You're part of the family too now, aren't you!?"

Rose was then enveloped in a wonderfully affectionate embrace. She tried very hard not to compare this moment to her own previous life of reproving hands on shoulders and obligatory pecks on the cheek…Never mind. She rolled her eyes to forget the memory. It was all very far in her past now. Right now was what she needed to be concerned about. And right now was certainly perfect.

"Kate, do you realize this?" William asked. "We got back our son and gained a daughter!"


	23. Trading Chicken Eggs for Peace

Happy Idiots

_"Kate, do you realize this?" William asked. "We got back our son and gained a daughter!"_

Rose quickly looked out of the corner of her eye to see Kate's reaction. The woman was beaming at the three of them, her hands clasped, nodding to her husband as she was unable to speak. William gave them both an extra squeeze before releasing the two, still laughing to himself.

Everyone smiled at each other pleasantly, though it seemed suddenly awkward now that the initial greetings were over. The energy in the room was starting to grow more uncomfortable as no one knew what to say next until,

"Grrrrrr…"

Poor Josh's face began to flush as his stomach growled so loudly. William chortled and tousled his youngest son's hair.

"Kate, I think your boy is hungry again," he said.

"I wasn't going to say anything about it…" Josh stammered, embarrassed.

"That's funny, because _I_ was about to," said Casper dryly, "This is all very wonderful here, but I'm starving." He'd moved out of the doorway and into the kitchen, followed by Bill. Rose couldn't help but notice that neither of them so much as looked at Jack. William narrowed his eyes at Casper to show him that he was going too far; but apparently, Casper didn't notice or gave no sign that he had. He sidled around the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room and reached into Kate's workspace.

"Get your fingers out; it'll be ready soon enough," she fussed good-naturedly, lightly smacking his hands away from her vegetables, "Honestly Casper, don't be giving Rose here the impression I raised you badly." She looked up and winked at the younger woman. Rose grinned.

"I think I've got a good idea about your upbringings, Kate," she said, cutting her eyes over to Jack who grinned back at her. "But is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, that's alright," Kate replied, scraping vegetables onto the plates, "All I need are those eggs to fry." She looked around for them before realizing that her daughter had yet to come inside with the eggs and shook her head.

"My Emily," she muttered, "Always has a few things on her agenda that I didn't assign… Joshua, will you go find your sister, please?"

"Yes ma'am," Josh made to go out the back door but Jack beat him to it.

"I've got this Mother, I'll go talk to her," he said hastily. Kate pursed her lips. She was mostly sure that Emily was angry with Jack and she was planning to have a discussion with her daughter later. At this rate, Jack could only make it worse. But then again, when Emily was angry, Jack was usually the only one able to make her see sense. ("Another one of the reason the last three years had stretched out _so_ incredibly long," she thought.)

"So long as you don't upset her…" Kate said slowly.

"Yes ma'am," Jack called back, out of the door before he was hardly finished speaking. Kate pursed her lips again, before realizing that Rose was curiously scrutinizing her expression. She schooled her face to be neutral again but still gazed in the direction that Jack had just left.

This could only end in one of two ways: Jack could make amends for whatever "betrayal" Emily envisioned this to be…or she could have a serious family problem on her hands.

Either way those eggs weren't going to be making their appearance for a while.

* * *

**A/N:** Can I get a drum roll please..._WE HIT 100 REVIEWS!_! I want to thank everybody _soooooo_ much, you are all impossibly amazing! That is _the_ best fourteenth birthday present I could get! (That's not exact but the two have occured since I last updated) Hugs and kisses to Spitfyre20, YourBestFriendK, filledeneige, LilyXJames, Taylor, Ana, BadWolf1968, liragreen, LittleMissLaughsAlot, Marigold, Johanna, Lady Elena Dawson and _all_ the Guests! A very special thanks to MashedPotatoesSquishBanana for being that super special 100th Review! You guys are awesome and it is the best feeling in the world!  
Love to all,  
Freddie!


	24. Complaining to Rocks

**A/N**: I know, I know; it's crazy but just remember to inhale and exhale and you'll be okay. Because I'm publishing _two_, yeah two, chapters in _one_ week. How crazy is that!? :) Happy Easter to every one! _**He is risen!**_

Happy Idiots

"One…" Emily muttered, throwing a rock as far she could, "That was for telling me all about Europe, for saying how amazing it would be, for making me want to go there with you. We were going to go together and tour the world!" She grabbed another one from her lap.

"Two…" she said as she threw that one even farther, "That's for letting me down! For leaving without telling me with just a note on my pillow, some money to pay me off, and some for me to keep safe for when you came back!...If you decided to even come back at all!

"Three…" she said in stronger voice, as the second little pebble almost sailed past her record, "That's for staying away so long I thought you were _dead_! For all those horrible dreams and sleepless nights and for never writing to let us know you were okay!

"Four…" Emily shouted, reaching into her lap for another rock and letting it fly, farther and longer than ever before. "That's _for_ coming back, but _not_ for me, _not_ for our family, but to _show off_ your flashy new girlfriend who shouldn't even be allowed to—"

"How's the view from up there?" an overly-pleasant voice interrupted her. Emily froze before peering over the edge of the chicken coop to see, of course, Jack staring up at her. The innocent, knowing smile on his face let her know that he'd heard everything she'd said. Emily, in turn, glared at him.

"I've got plenty more rocks," she said, "It's only fair you know that I've gotten to be a pretty good shot." Jack rolled his eyes and chuckled as he began to climb up to join her.

He had been the one to first bring her up here, to show that if you could get your elbows up over the roof, you could use the wood slats as handles and pull yourself to the top. From sitting on the chicken coop, they had the best view of the farm. Behind the house, it stretched off into the gently undulating fields, shining lake, and the trees that stood at the edge of the property line.

"It sure is pretty," Jack said quietly, settling down next to her. She huffed.

"You could have been enjoying it for _three extra years_ if you'd stayed here," she growled, throwing another rock as hard as possible. Jack nodded appreciatively.

"You've gotten a much better arm," he complemented. But something small inside Emily snapped.

"_Oh please! _Quit it with the small talk Jack!" she cried, "…Just tell me why you came out here."

"Technically, I came to see if you were ever planning on bringing in our eggs," Jack said simply, "But I also wanted to talk with you."

"Save your breath," Emily muttered, "If you're so done with being around me, then I'm done with being around you."

"_Emily_," Jack said, his voice full of exhaustion, "I never said I was done with you…And to address your earlier complaints to the rocks, I left because I felt that if I stayed here in this tiny town for one second longer I would explode. I didn't tell you I was leaving because—well, because I was too angry with Bill and Casper to—"

"Then why did you take that out on me?" she cried, "I didn't deserve any more than a note? Just because you were mad at those two!?" Her eyes grew wide as she reached a new realization.

"…I know what it was." she cried, "You just couldn't talk to me because you didn't want to have an arguement about leaving." Jack bit his lip; he hated to admit it, but that _had_ played a small part in his swift decision to leave. Emily shook her head in disgust.

"You do realize, Jonathan Dawson, what a coward you can be sometimes?" she said.

But _that_ was going much too far.

Jack held up a finger.

"Number one," he said, "Only _Mother_ is allowed to call me that.

"And two," he held up a second finger, "I wasn't running from you." (Emily scoffed.) "True, I didn't want confrontation, but that was because I was short on time and you wouldn't have convinced me of anything anyway." She pursed her lips but at least she believed him. (And all of that _was_ true—more or less.)

"And three," he held up the third finger and paused, because he knew he was walking on eggshells here, "…You're right. I messed up. I should have told you what I was planning to do, whether or not you could have convinced me otherwise, _and_ I should have written more _and_ I should have come home sooner. I _really_ am sorry Em; I was never trying to hurt you." Emily's bottom lip was starting to tremble and her brow was furrowed. But Jack could tell he'd broken through.

"Yeah, well; you did anyway," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. Jack sighed and responded in kind, stroking her hair and patting her back. They were like this for a few moments, with Emily quietly trying to stifle a few tears, before he told her,

"Rose deserves for you to give her a chance, Emily. A _real_ chance."

Emily withdrew from his shirt and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The look in her eyes was not as hostile as it had been about Rose, but still plenty full of distrust and betrayal. Jack resisted the urge to sigh again. This was at least a start.

"What's so special about her anyway?" his sister grumbled. Jack had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. _What's so special about her anyway?_ Oh, if only Emily knew…


	25. And Explaining to Sisters

**A/N:** This was written as part of last chapter but I decided to split them up to keep with the short chapter theme and cause I like the chapter titles. But you can all still give me credit for technically publishing _three_ chapters in one week...

Happy Idiots

…Music. Lights. Laughter. The smell of cheap beer and too many people in too small of a space. Rose, stunningly gorgeous as she laughed at some joke, was dancing with him at the forbidden party in the third class section. The way the light caught her hair as she whirled around, smiling and laughing at everyone, was entrancing. The sight of her throwing her head back to laugh again, red curls bouncing, was intoxicating. He tried to ignore the way his stomach turned sour when she danced with other people, even when she danced with _Fabrizio_ for heaven's sake! "Off limits, Jack, off limits" he kept thinking, "Honestly, what would Mother say?" But when she rotated back to dance with him, to twirl in his arms, to be so close, (and yet so incredibly far away), he lost all voice of reason. He'd met lots of girls, many of them beautiful, many of them kind, many of them strong-willed, and had liked them all. But this girl was different—_much_ different. ("Off limits, Jack, _off limits!_") A couple times, she caught him staring at her between dances. Did she know even then? Because he was quickly realizing that whether or not she was engaged, he was almost positive that he knew…

…Beating his head against that damned pole as the water line in the porthole window rose steadily higher. Freezing seawater pouring in through the grate in the door while he could do nothing but shout like the helpless, abandoned idiot he was. But as his panic was rising past levels even _he_ couldn't handle, low and behold, his fiery, stubborn, red-haired, axe-wielding, guardian angel appeared and saved his life. Not for the first _or_ the last time that night either…

…Her paled, terrified face as he watched her being lowered down _Titanic_'s side in a lifeboat. All he could do was be thankful that, of the two of them, at least she would survive this disaster. But then Jack felt his stomach drop with fear when she determinedly clenched her jaw, knowing what was going through her mind before she did it. He'd nearly thrown himself into the water then and there with frustration as she dove back on to the. _Sinking._ _Ship_. "You're so stupid, Rose!" was all he could think or say to her. She shook her head as if he was the one who didn't understand. "You jump, I jump," she said, as though that explained everything. That was when he knew. Knew for _absolute, _100% certain that if they could both _possibly_ live through this, he was going to marry her, take care of her, and love her for the rest of his life...

….Every part of him felt like it was being stabbed by the freezing, deadly water. Not only was he in horrible pain; but now, after treading water to keep his blood moving for so long, he was unbelievably exhausted too. Jack was well aware that he could die very soon and the temptation to close his eyes and rest for only a few minutes was _incredibly_ strong. But he kept treading water, breaking for only a few seconds at a time. The one thing that made him concentrate was continuing to watch Rose. Any minute now, someone was going to come back for them. Any second now, that scared and miserable frown on her face would change. Within a few days, they could start that life together; go down to the pier, drink more cheap beer, and ride roller coasters until they threw up… But, before that could happen, he deserved a _little_ break, right…?

…Jack didn't want to wake up. It was so comfortable and peaceful down here. But there was that voice that continued to beg him to open his eyes, to come back, _please_. When he finally did wake up, she was the first thing he saw. When her arms encircled his neck, her face buried in his shoulder, pressed close to chest, he was certain that he was never _ever_ going to let her go…

…'"Shouldn't…well shouldn't we get _married_ first?" she asked.' Those seven, magic, heat-pounding words spoke for themselves…

"…Jack? …_Jack!_" He blinked and refocused his eyes on the girl across from him, her eyebrows raised. 'What's so special about her anyway?' _Pfft, Emily if only you knew_. But how do you express those kinds of memories? How could he make her understand these things? Heck, she didn't even know they'd been on the _Titanic_ yet!

"We've been through a _lot_ together," Jack said simply; because eventually, all the words in the world wouldn't be able to express what had happened to them.

"Been through a lot? In two weeks!" Emily asked incredulously. Jack had to admit, she had valid point there, and hearing it now, it _did_ sound a little crazy. But he knew better.

"What experience could you possibly have shared that got you engaged after _two little_ weeks?" She continued.

There was nothing else for it then. He had been planning to tell all of them about it at lunch but perhaps giving Emily a short, exclusive preview would help to smooth a few things over between them.

"Has Chippewa heard of the _Titanic_ yet?" he asked after a beat, giving her a sideways glance. It took Emily a moment to comprehend this information before she narrowed her eyes in skepticism. But then, she bit her lip as though actually considering the ludicrous possibility.

"You're kidding…? Right?" she said, not entirely sure of the statement. Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

"Emily, what has my luck always been like?" he asked. Her brow was beginning to clear.

"…Extreme highs to extreme lows," she said slowly, her voice hushed, "But surely not…. _**the**_ _Titanic_?"

"The very same. So _Titanic_ is the…?" he waited for her to finish it for him.

"…Low," she said, obviously still trying to wrap her mind around this.

"Which makes meeting and proposing to Rose the…?"

"High," Emily said distractedly before rushing out, "_So you __**really**__ were on the_—?" But Jack interrupted her.

"Right, Rose was _and is_ the high point," he said pointedly, "And you would understand that if you actually _give her a chance_."

His words were enough to delay Emily's stream of questions, for the time being at least. She nodded slowly and bit her bottom lip.

"So…" she began, "I wasn't entirely fair with her…was I?" Jack was tempted to make the girl fully admit to being in the wrong but he knew how much this confession had cost her. And, most (okay, almost all) of that original anger was his fault anyway.

"Not _entirely_," he agreed.

"Do you think she noticed?" He could tell that now Emily was really starting to feel bad about it.

"Nah," he said, elbowing her playfully, "I think she was distracted by meeting everybody else." He started to climb down the side of the chicken coop. "So you've still got a chance to make this right." As he dropped to the ground, he saw relief in her eyes.

"So wait, let me get this straight," Emily said, standing up, "you two really _first met_ only once you got on board?" Jack held his arms up to help her down but she rolled her eyes, jumped, and landed next to him.

"Yeah," he said, as she dusted herself off.

"And you fell in love before it went down?"

They had started walking back towards the house.

"Before…and during," he said, not wishing to fully go in to detail now about the fatal accident. Emily stopped and just beamed at him, her hands clasped.

"You're right!" she said, her voice suddenly sweet and girly, "I take it all back. That is the most romantic thing I've ever heard in all my life!"

Jack dragged a hand across his face.

"Emily…!"

"But it's adorable! …I take all of it back, she must be a wonderful person and…"

"Emily!" he cried, "Stop talking to me like I'm a kitten okay?" Her smile just beamed brighter. Jack rolled his eyes—adorable, _yeesh_—and started to open the door before remembering something important.

"Oh yeah, Emily…" he said.

"What?" she asked, that happy, idiotic grin still on her face.

"…You forgot the eggs again."

_**A/N:**_ Shout out to NerdyGirl0414, who was reviewing and PMing with me. She is _awesome_! *the crowd roars* Thank you darling, you are _so_ sweet. And to Alex, even though he probably won't read this, for helping me out with some of the details here. *the crowd roars again*

I respond to 9 out of 10 of my reviews (okay fine, more like 8.5). Just putting that out there….


	26. Hem and Haw

_This chapter is for Jo, a guest, who made my day._

_On a more solemn note: God bless all the people involved in the bombings in Boston and the explosion in West, TX. Our thoughts and prayers are with you_.

Happy Idiots

"Well now," said William, as everyone scooted their chairs under the table. "Aren't we all glad we get to gather together and have a nice lunch like this?"

"Regardless of whether or not the eggs ever showed up," Joshua mumbled to his sister. Emily nudged him under the table but didn't respond, as she was busy observing Jack and Rose, seated across the table from her.

Now that she was paying attention, she had to admit that they had a certain…_thing_ about them: a familiarity that made it seem like they'd known each other for much longer than two weeks.

Emily glanced down the table at her parents. Her mother was, par usual, adjusting and readjusting her seat so that it was "just so" while her father patiently waited for her to ask him to get up and push her in once more. The routine was probably as old as their marriage.

She turned back to Jack and Rose, where he was whispering something to her and she kept responding by using solely her eyebrows. Alright _fine_, she had to accept it; they were almost like a younger version of her own parents. They had that same easy way of getting along.

Jack finally looked away and she caught his eye.

_Tell!_ Emily mouthed to him.

_One minute_, he mouthed back.

She started to tap his leg under the table. He pursed his lips.

_Tell and I'll stop_, she mouthed, kicking a little harder.

_Be patient_, he replied. She half-glared at him. He half-glared back.

"So Jack," William said, pointing his fork at his son and interrupting the silent battle of wills. "You still owe us some good stories and explanations."

Emily smirked triumphantly at Jack.

"Say, that's right," she said. "Jack, why don't you explain away?" Jack rolled his eyes and glanced at Rose.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her. She hesitated but then sighed and nodded. The rest of the family shared bemused looks but didn't comment.

"Well," Jack started nervously, turning back to them, "it's kind of hard to talk about it. At least…the most recent part is—"

"Tell about the older things then," Kate interrupted jovially, "How was France? Italy?"

Emily opened her mouth to protest but Jack held up a pacifying hand.

"Well, you see," he said, "I've already had a request put in by a very important person and I believe that it needs to be addressed. Besides…we'd have to tell you sooner or later."

The six other Dawson leaned forwards in their seats. Jack sighed again and fidgeted with his hands.

"Has the news reached Chippewa Falls yet? About the _Titanic_?" he asked in a small voice. Several voices burst out.

"What's that got to do with it…?" Bill started sputtering.

"Jack, tell _your_ story, son…" William began.

"Yeah, the headlines have been screaming it for days, it looked _awful_…" Joshua said, looking eager to be of use with the information.

"We all felt so sorry for those people…" Kate said, frowning sadly.

"Everybody please, _shhh_!" Emily interrupted.

The hubbub subsided a little and Jack shot his sister a rueful smile.

"Well see that," he said slowly, "It's actually got, well, _every_thing to do with our story…Because we were on it."

There was second's pause.

And then everyone started talking again.

"Seriously _**the**_ _Titanic_?!" Casper asked, incredulous.

"What was it like? You really saw it?" Bill asked loudly

"Was it _awful_? Jack, that's terrible, why didn't you say something!?" Joshua cried.

"Never mind us Jack, you don't have to talk about it. That must've been horrible." William said quickly.

"Rose, you too, I'm so sorry, dear!" Kate said, reaching across the table and squeezing the younger woman's hand.

Jack waited a moment for the noise to die down before continuing.

"Yes, _**the**__ Titanic_," he said, "And I know the first question is about how _I_ survived since I was a 3rd Class, male adult."

Kate's eyes widened; she hadn't considered how _very_ close her son had been to not coming home…

"The fact is, I'm still trying to figure that much out," Jack continued, "I mean, I know _how_ it happened but…"

"...It's hard to wrap your mind around," Rose finished quietly. Her eyes were resolutely fixed on the edge of the table but then she took a deep breath and met the gaze of the family.

"I'm sorry," she said, "We should probably start from the beginning, wouldn't you say Jack?"

Jack nodded. "Good idea. Let's see, the beginning, seems like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

Rose pressed her lips into solemn line.

"Yes," she said quietly, "Yes it does."

_**Very Important! Very Important! Very Important! Very Important!**_

_**Three things! **_

_**One:**__ If you're getting impatient between updates, (which I know you are, I'm so sorry but I really am doing my best!) you can go back to Chapter 12 where I redid the ending and Chapter 15 where I redid the beginning. Just if you're interested…Oh yeah, or check out some of my other stories._

_**Two:**__ I am going to go back and make this as though Jack and Rose are telling the story to Brock What's-His-Face, like in the movie. Would y'all be interested if I went back and published some short chapters throughout the fic where they are narrating, or if I hold off until I've finished the main storyline and then add it? Keep in mind that though they would be very short, they would go into my writing time and delay the main story updates. Looking forward to feedback…_

_**Three**__: A couple weeks ago, my drama teacher agreed to let our class present a scene from the play I have written. He waited until they had seen it to tell people it was mine and a lot of people honestly enjoyed it. Since then, one of my friends asked if we could film it over the summer. It's super exciting and I can't wait but the thing is that I don't like the ending. Boy gets girl, family gets issues resolved, very cliché. I want to rewrite it in time for summer and we all know how productive I am. THIS STORY IS NOT GOING ON HIATUS! But things will be getting even…erm…slower. I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry! Don't throw things at me. Don't cuss me out! Don't find my house and follow me home from school! :/ Thank you all for bearing with me through this, y'all are great!_

_Wow, sorry for the long Author's Note. _

_Hope all of y'all are doing great, it's a real pleasure to know (IDK, do we technically 'know' each other?) all of you!_

_~Freddie_


	27. Stories, Part I: Technicalities

A/N: Aaaaaand…SCHOOL'S OUT! Now I can promise you with full confidence that updates will be happening much more often! Let's see if we can finish this over the summer.

Happy Idiots

"You first," Jack said, sitting back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "They know where _I_ come from. We need to hear about you." Rose sighed and chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment, thinking.

"Well…" she said slowly, "I was, um, I was born into a lot of…_money_." The last word was spoken as if something to be very ashamed for. A couple eyebrows around the table went up but no one interrupted

"My father died when I was nine and afterwards my mother found out that he'd left us a lot of debt…as in _tens of thousands_ of dollars in debt." Joshua let out a low whistle.

"To Mother, it was suddenly the most important thing to keep up appearances. It really was disgusting the lengths she would go to just so that we could remain one of the most prominent families. We were selling things off only when the collector's forced us to but with every sale, Mother tried harder and harder to find a husband for me. '_Someone to save us from our troubles_,' was one of her favorite lines, '_Someone to put us back on top_.' That process started when I was fifteen."

Kate glanced, appalled, at her own soon-to-be fifteen year old daughter. Though marriage was not _too_ far off in Emily's future, giving her daughter away now, just to gain more prestige in _any_ society, would be border-line barbaric.

Rose continued, "Mother found the perfect candidate on my sixteenth birthday. After inviting every suitor she knew, whether twenty years old or fifty-five years old, to the party; she settled on Caledon Hockley. He was twenty-nine then, selfish, greedy, and domineering. He practically thought he owned me once the engagement was announced."

"Engagement?" Emily interrupted, "You really were engaged to him then?" She looked between Jack and Rose with her brow furrowed in confusion. Jack grinned slightly.

"_Technically_, she still is," he muttered, so that only Rose could hear. She shot him a glare.

"_Technically_, Rose DeWitt Bukater is _dead_, so that contract was annulled," she muttered back.

"Just trying to help you keep your story straight," Jack said, smiling innocently. Rose rolled her eyes and turned back to the family.

"Yes, I _was_ engaged to Cal," she explained, "But Jack and I ended up, er, taking care of that."

"_Technically_," Jack added under his breath. Rose stepped on his foot under the table. He bowed his head in silent submission.

"But the _Titanic_?" Casper asked.

"Right, right;" Rose said, "We—Cal, Mother, and I—were heading back to America where we were supposed to start preparing for the wedding. They were so excited to be on such a grand ship but I was miserable. Since we'd gotten engaged, Cal had completely taken over my life. My food, my clothes, my appointments, even when I was supposed to wake up or go to sleep was his decision."

Rose looked down at her hands, not wanting to tell Jack's family _all_ about her depression but knowing it was necessary for them to understand who she was and how much their son/brother meant to her. "I was very lonely…bored…depressed…and scared. I didn't have anyone to trust or anything to enjoy."

She glanced back at Jack, both of them knowing what came next in the story but neither wanting to talk about it. Jack put a comforting hand on top of hers as if to say, 'whatever you're comfortable with.' Rose nodded.

"I'm not proud of it," she said quietly, "But I was seriously considering jumping off the boat." She finally hazarded a look up at the others. William looked pained; Kate seemed like she was about to cry; a concerned Bill and Casper were leaning forward in their seats, listening intently; Joshua's eyes were round and large; and Emily seemed appalled.

"Jack saved me from doing something dangerous and stupid and, graciously, didn't reveal to anyone what had almost happened," she finished quickly.

_Good_, that part was over. Quite frankly, telling about the darker part of her life was much harder than telling about the most traumatic. Compared to this, the story of the shipwreck would be quite easy.

"But wait," William said, "That whole time I take it you were traveling first class; weren't you?"

"I was," Rose admitted, still conscious of not wanting to seem like she was lording past, albeit despised, wealth over them.

"How did Jack find you then?" William asked. "In fact," he turned to Jack, "What were you doing there in the first place? While we were waiting for you, you were spending all that time in Southampton looking for the nicest boat to come through just for you?" (The last part was a tease.)

Jack smiled as Rose looked over at him, her expression smug.

"_Your_ turn," she quipped.


End file.
